Flashlight
by Won't-wear-a-Halo
Summary: This is an AU. Two years ago, the love of your life walked out the door, breaking your heart into a million pieces. He had been unable to deal with his ptsd and you hadn't been able to help him. Now that your best friend is marrying his friend, he's coming back to town and you try to brace yourself for the reunion. Will you finally get closure?
1. Chapter 1

**Flashlight**

* * *

_Chapter one_

* * *

A/N: So here is the first chapter of my newest story. A totally new story then I was working on the past few weeks, but I really like this idea!  
beanstalk007 on tumblr was kind enough to proofread this for me, so huge thank you!

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

* * *

You sighed as you leaned back against bench, allowing the rays of sun to wash over you, enjoying the first warm day of the year. Spring so far had been mostly wet. Next to you was your best friend, tapping her feet uncontrollably. She was nervous about something and you wondered what was bothering her.

"We've got to talk", Nat finally said, carefully choosing her words.

When she had asked if you had wanted to go for a walk in the park, you knew there had to be a reason. Initially you had assumed it would be about the wedding, but when her nerves began to get the best of her with every step she took, you knew it had to be something serious. Still she hadn't brought up what was troubling her, obviously dreading the conversation you were about to have. To be honest, so did you. Not knowing what news was hanging over you like a thunder cloud was nerve-wracking. Which was why you had not been able to save her the trouble by starting the conversation for her. Of course, you had an inkling of the subject she was about to breach.

"What's up?" you asked, forcing the tone to remain light, still holding on to some hope that it was something else.

"You know how Clint asked Bucky, right?" Natasha never was one to beat around the bush, even when the subject was uncomfortable. She took a deep breath before continuing, "He is coming".

"I figured he would" you shrugged, pretending that the news didn't shake you. It was only natural for him to come to the wedding. He left town, he had not stopped being Clint's friend. He just stopped being yours.

"Are you…will you…" Natasha was struggling to form the question she wanted to ask, "Do you still want to be my maid of honour? Be in the wedding party…" She glanced down at her hands, unable to look you in the eye. It dawned on you that she probably feared that Bucky would scare you off. Funny enough, she would probably be understanding if it had.

"Of course, silly. You're my ride or die! No man comes between us" you laughed, pulling her into a tight hug. The ride or die may have been said as a joke, but it was true. No man had ever been able to break you two up, no matter how much they tried. And no man ever would succeed either. She had been your best friend since she moved into the house next to yours.

You were twelve years old at the time, but the spunky redheaded girl had immediately intrigued you. Your parents had informed you that the family had moved around over the past few years and in your mind this meant that she had seen so much of the world. A world that was so foreign to you still, though you longed to explore it. You figured she must be wiser than all your friends combined and made it your mission to become her friend. She had certainly been braver, funnier and more adventurous than you. There wasn't ever a dull moment with Natasha.

Natasha hugged you back with a deep sigh of relief, the smile returned to her face just as the alarm on her phone beeped, reminding you of the appointment you needed to get to. Today was her last fitting before the wedding and she was nervous. You knew there was nothing to be worried about. Clint would marry her even if she showed up in a burlap sack. That man was crazy about her. Just as she was about him. And you were beyond happy that they were getting married.

Shortly after arriving at the shop, Natasha was ushered into the changing room, leaving you to ponder on the thoughts that had been plaguing your mind for months now. You traced your ring finger, now empty, but you still remembered the beautiful ring that used to adorn it. You always thought you would be the first to get married, before that last deployment. Everyone had thought the same.

Waking up that morning, you had admired the ring, smiling as the stone caught a sliver of sunlight and spread it around the room, creating beautiful shapes on the dark walls. The arm draped over your waist shifted, pulling you closer. You looked to the side, his eyes were still closed but there was a smile playing on his lips. Holding you close to him, his face moved forward, his lips brushing your cheek lightly.

"Morning, beautiful" he whispered, his fingers lazily drawing circles on your waist. Goosebumps erupted as he did so, though you made no attempt to stop him.

"Hi sleepyhead" you sighed in content.

"You happy?" He asked softly and you shifted in his arms until you were facing him. Finally he opened his eyes, staring back at you. The tone of his voice had been relatively casual, though there was a shimmer of doubt in his eyes. As if his question last night had not made you the happiest woman on earth. Kissing his lips softly, wrapping your arms around his neck, you held him as close as possible. Pulling back slightly to answer him.

"The happiest," you sighed happily before kissing him again. His hand reached for your own and he admired the ring he had slipped on there the night before.

Natasha stepped back into the room, dressed in the most beautiful ivory gown that hugged her hourglass shape perfectly. She beamed as she stepped up on the platform, twirling around, before looking herself over in the mirror. She was radiant and you could already imagine Clint's face upon seeing her on their wedding day.

Next to you her mother wiped away a tear as she looked upon her smiling daughter. You handed her a tissue from the table, without taking your eyes off your friend. You chuckled as her mother sniffed loudly, you had expected this reaction. What else was there to do, her daughter looked mesmerising. And happy. You smiled as you watched her, staring at her own reflection, picking at invisible lint on the skirt of her dress.

"You are gorgeous" you said, standing up from the sofa and walking closer. Natasha smiled at you through the mirror and reached back to squeeze your hand.

"We only have to change the neckline an inch, but that's the last of it" the tailor said with a smile and she used her hand and a small pin to show how the end result would look. Natasha nodded, her nervousness changing into giddiness at the prospect of the finished wedding dress. Only a few more weeks before the wedding and everything was falling into place.

There had been so much planning going into the day. You and Steve helped the couple as best as you could. Unbeknownst to the couple, this weekend they would be surprised by their closest friends for the bachelor and bachelorette parties. After that, it was just a matter of dotting the i's on the seating chart, and all work would be done. Then you would finally be able to relax. You hoped. The return of Bucky might have put a stop to that though.

It had been two years, since you had last seen him or even heard from him. And those had been the hardest years of your life. Around family and friends you had managed to keep a brave face, but his departure had shattered you. Only Steve seemed to truly understand it, as he too was left heart broken upon the departure of his best friend and partner in crime. Not to say that Clint and Natasha had brushed it off, of course.

Steve, Bucky and Clint had joined the army together, all three of them ending up in different departments, but never straying from their friendship. When Steve and Bucky were sent overseas together, Clint had felt left out. Until the was when everything changed and your lives fell apart. That was the moment those strong friendships had truly been tested.

You barely even remembered picking up the phone and calling Nat after that devastating message. But you must have, as they rushed into the house not too long after. Clint had scooped you off the floor while Natasha went to pack your bag. You had been a mess, sitting in a pile of your clothes in the middle of your bedroom. Clint had carried you to the kitchen, setting you down with a cup of tea, hoping to calm your nerves in the slightest. They were as scared as you were.

There wasn't much known yet, just that there had been an ambush and Bucky got injured. They had shipped him off to the nearest military hospital, which happened to be in Germany. The person calling you had been unable to tell you much about the extend of his injuries.

"He's going to be fine" Clint whispered, more to himself than to you and you stopped twisting the ring on your finger long enough to grasp his hand in yours squeezing it tightly. Unable to say anything reassuring to him about his friend.

"Of course he is" Natasha said matter-of-factly as she stepped into the kitchen with your luggage in tow. The twitch in her mouth betrayed her own fear, but she was holding it together for you and Clint. She always was the strongest of the group.

Natasha came back out of the changing room in her own clothes and everyone got up to leave the bridal shop. You shook your head a little to rid yourself of the painful thoughts that ran through it at record speed.

Just the mention of him had taken you down memory lane. For two years you had been trying to forget him, forget the pain. Just because you understood his reasons, didn't mean it hurt any less when he left. The wedding date had been set, plans were formed and a dress had been ordered. Things hadn't been easy after his return, but you had been convinced that everything would work itself out. Together you could face anything, you had figured. He obviously hadn't agreed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Flashlight**

* * *

_Chapter two_

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**A/N:** Again a huge thank you to beanstalk007 on Tumblr for the help with this story.  
As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

* * *

Today was a day of running errands. There was still so much you wanted to get done for the wedding. You had been so busy, trying to make the day as perfect as could be for your friends, and now you felt like you were lagging behind a little. So today you made sure that your gift to the couple was secured, that everything for the bachelorette party was done and that you found the right shoes to match the dress that you were supposed to wear. It took the better part of the day and by the time you made your way to the pharmacy, your last stop for the day, you were grunting under the weight of the bags.

Your head had been pounding since the quick lunch you had taken earlier that afternoon and it reminded you that it would be wise to have painkillers on hand the day of the wedding. You didn't want to be brought down by something as simple as a headache, not when both the wedding and hen party were just around the corner.

Barely looking where you were going, you weaved through the other shoppers, heading straight for the right isle. You knew exactly where to go, but didn't stop to wonder if that was a bad sign. Absentmindedly, your hand reached for the biggest packet of paracetamol there was, before turning around to grab some ibuprofen as well. Just as your hand closed around the smaller packet, someone else's did as well. Brought back to the present by the unexpected touch of flesh, you jumped and dropped your bags.

Quick to mutter an apology, you bend down to pick your bags from the floor before standing up and looking to see just who you had touched. Nothing could have prepared you for who you were about to see, and as you stood straight your mouth fell open in surprise.

Bucky stood still, completely frozen as he regarded you with wide eyes. Your heart skipped a beat and you shifted on your feet uncomfortably. He kept staring, not saying a word. It almost seemed like he was holding his breath. Taking a deep one yourself, you opted to be the first to speak and hopefully break the tension.

"Good to see you, Bucky." there had been so many words you had rather spoken in this moment. But with the wedding so close, you had vowed to yourself not to stir up the past. First came the wedding, then your problems. It's not like they would magically disappear after the 'd sort them out after.

Bucky still didn't say a word, though his mouth opened and closed a few times. At least he was as shocked as you were. Knowing that this, seeing you again, wasn't easy on him either. In some twisted way, that helped.

"Guess you had not expected to see me here." you smiled as kindly as you could, "same here".

Bucky just nodded, finally inhaling as he did so. He really had been holding his breath.

"I…I've got to go" Bucky stumbled over his words, dropping the painkillers in his hand and brushing past you in his haste to make it to the door and head outside. You sighed as you watched him leave. So much for breaking the tension. You'd made him run.

* * *

"It's really okay if you want to skip tonight." Natasha repeated for what seemed like the tenth time.

You had only just come back from your little shopping trip and were yet to recover from your run in with Bucky. That was when Natasha had called to invite you to dinner. Before you could agree to it, however, she explained that it would be a dinner for all the people in their wedding party. This would include Steve as the best man and you as the maid of honour, of course. But also Maria and Wanda as bridesmaids and Bucky and Sam as groomsmen. Natasha knew just how hard that would be for both parties and she was obviously working hard to tread it lightly.

"Does Bucky know who's coming?" You wondered, thinking back to that afternoon and his hasty departure from the store.

"Clint is talking to him right now, though he'd be stupid to think you wouldn't be invited." Natasha stated, her breathing changing as she spoke. You could hear her move through her house.

"Y/n, he mentioned running into you. Are you okay?" Natasha asked and you could hear a door close softly on her end, signalling that she secluded herself from Clint and any one else that could possibly overhear your response.

"It was a shock," You answered honestly, before sighing deeply and adding, "but I think it was worse for him".

You began to explain to her his silence, how he held his breath and seemed to have great difficulty to find words. Despite the pain his disappearing act had caused you, you realised you still worried about his well being, far more than you probably should.

He had left to find a sense of peace within himself that he had lost in the war. And all this time, you had simply told yourself that he had found it, somewhere far away from you. You were surprised how hard it was to learn that he had not found said peace after all. He hurt you, but he was a good man and he deserved more than what life had given him so far.

Natasha agreed with you there, though she was adamant that you look after yourself first, before you worried about him. You could not help but smile at her unwavering support and loyalty to either of you. This situation could not be easy on any of your friends.

"I'll be there in an hour" you finally promised, cutting her worried pleas short with the assurance that it would be okay. She didn't need to know that your hands had been shaking with anticipation, sweat already forming on your skin from the prospect of seeing him again and in such a small gathering. There would be nothing to hide behind or to distract you from his presence.

A quick and most importantly cold shower would take care of the perspiration, you thought and got up in order to get yourself ready for this evening, eventful as it was promising to be.

* * *

When you were about to knock on the door a little over an hour later, you almost turned away again. You weren't ready to face Bucky, not in a room with all your friends. With your hand raised, close to the door, you stood frozen as you tried to gather enough courage to finally knock. A hand on your shoulder startled you, earning a chuckle from the tall broad shouldered ex-soldier standing behind you. You turned, coming face to face with a smiling Steve.

"Afraid it'll bite?" He asked with a smirk and you rolled your eyes with a smile and slapped a hand against his broad chest, earning yourself a barking laugh from the man.

"Not the door" shrugging, you finally knocked and Steve squeezed your shoulder softly.

"You're not alone, you know that right" he whispered close to your ear, as footsteps could be heard coming closer to the other end of the door. You nodded and smiled gratefully up at your friend. The two of you had always been close, you were thankful that the war and all its consequences had not changed that. Though it had changed him, like it had Clint, Sam and Bucky, it had not changed the connection the two of you held.

"This is Sam" Steve had begun when you came to pick him up from base, "The pilot that flew Bucky to safety".

It had been all you needed to know, to accept this man into your life. He had saved Bucky's life and by extension, your own. And he had supported Steve, who had been stuck in a war zone without any information on his wounded friend. An unbreakable bond had formed between the two men and thanks to Sam's fun and caring nature, everyone had soon embraced him into their tight-knit group.

Clint opened the door with a bright smile, stepping aside to let the two of you enter. The rest of the group was already inside. There was no real hallway, entering right into the open plan living space. Conversation stalled momentarily as everyone turned around to greet the two of you. Natasha smiled from her place behind the kitchen island, separating her from the others sitting around the dinner table. She was pouring wine into a glass, grabbing another as soon as you entered. You smiled back at her, grateful for the glass of wine she held at the ready for you as soon you had rid yourself of your coat. As you slide your arms out of the sleeves of the leather jacket, you looked around the room in search of Bucky. He stood by the balcony door, staring in your direction. The look in his eyes was still as pained as it had been that afternoon and it took a lot of self control to not walk up to him for a hug. His eyes shifted between you and Steve, a frown on his features. Confused, you kinked your head to the side, looking him over for a moment, before finally walking over to Natasha and accepting the glass of wine she held out for you. Steve got himself a beer from the fridge and walked over to Bucky, pulling him into a hug that the latter barely returned, before sitting down next to Sam.

Basically chugging the wine, Natasha quickly offered a refill before turning to the oven and pulling out a wonderfully smelling dish. She announced that dinner was ready, asking everyone to sit down. Wanda patted the seat next to her and you quickly sat down, your shaking limbs aching as you did. Wanda hugged you sideways, rubbing your shoulders in the process, giving you her silent reassurance. Maria raised her glass from the opposite side of the table next to Sam, offering a kind smile, before Sam stole her attention away from you by bringing Maria's hand to his lips and kissing it.

Last year, when his contract with the airforce ended, Maria had been his biggest incentive to come here. He had opted out of a renewal and instead accepted the job that Steve managed to secure for him.

Natasha placed the steaming dish in the middle of the table, where a salad and some steamed broccoli finished the meal. Her knee was propped up on the seat next to you, leaving Clint to take residence at the head of the table and Bucky opposite him. You glanced in his direction, but his eyes were cast down. Somehow the seating arrangements felt wrong. He was close, only Wanda between the both of you, and yet he couldn't have been more unreachable.

Dinner went by rather uneventfully. Though conversation was strained the first fifteen minutes, with the combined efforts of Sam and Clint's and their inexhaustible humour, tension was eventually broken and laughter slowly filled the room. Not one person at that table could keep the laugher from spilling from their lips.

You realised how good it was to see everyone so happy. To see Bucky happy. There had not been much laughter when he came home from the hospital. None at all to be exact. But now his face lit up as Sam popped another joke, finished by Steve at the expense of the groom, who looked glum for about a second before he joined in.

By the time you got your coat to go home, you felt entirely more confident about having Bucky around the coming weeks. You now knew that you'd be fine.  
Hugging everyone goodbye, including your estranged ex, you walked to the door through which you had entered earlier that evening, entering the hallway leading you back to the elevator. You had only just pressed the button when the sound of a throat being cleared made you pause mid-action. Slowly pulling your hand back from the button, you turned to look behind you.

"I just wanted to apologise for this afternoon," Bucky spoke softly, wringing his hands, "I hadn't expected to see you just yet". He didn't look up to meet your gaze. Behind you the elevator dinged upon its arrival, but you ignored it.

"I get it Bucky, it's not easy coming back" you offered, hoping to put him at ease. He looked up and nodded. You smiled at him, before finally stepping into the waiting elevator, begging the doors to close quickly. As soon as they did, the tears began to spill. Seeing him was hard, talking to him was hard, but not being able to hold him when he was so obviously still struggling was probably the hardest part.


	3. Chapter 3

**Flashlight**

* * *

_Chapter three_

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Wanda sat quietly on your couch watching you pace around the living room while you told her about Bucky's apology and the feelings that the words had evoked in you. They still confused you. For a while you thought that you were getting over him, but having him this close had proven otherwise. His admission that seeing you was hard on him as well, made the whole situation even more difficult. Confusion, heartache, anger and sadness all whirled around in your head. That was where the pacing had come in, it was simply impossible to keep still.

Wanda looked apologetic as she carefully watched you, not saying a word as you kept moving, talking her through the moment of interaction repeatedly. It wasn't until you finally stopped talking, stopped repeating the same words over and over again, that she spoke.

"You never got closure, of course those feelings are still there." she stated simply, sighing as a tears began to slip from your eyes. She stood up and wiped them away, pulling you into a hug.

"It's okay to be confused, or angry or sad, even all of them together. It's understandable," she whispered, rubbing her hand in circular motions over your back as she held you close. You couldn't help but sniffle at her words. Your heart feeling heavy as it beat loudly in your chest. When was this going to get easier?

"At some point, you'll have to talk to him about this," Wanda pointed out and you knew she was right. Nothing had been resolved, how were you supposed to move on? When Bucky left, you had thought he'd be back in a little while. Then weeks turned into months and months turned into years, leaving you broken and disillusioned.

"Unfortunately, today is not that day" Wanda said, apologetic once more, as she pulled away, "Today we have a party, one we need to get ready for sooner rather than later," she added and you nodded as you wiped a hand over your face.

Moving to the bathroom, you bent over the sink and splashed water in your face. Wanda followed, handing you a towel as she leaned against the countertop. Her eyes fixed on your face, watching intently. You knew she was checking for more tears.

"Sure you're up for it?" She wondered after a moment of silence and you offered her the best smile you could muster. Natasha deserved a great day out with her friends. You were not going to mess that up for her. Taking a deep breath, you thanked Wanda for offering up her shoulder for you to cry on, before you moved around the bathroom and got your make-up out. It was time to remove the running mascara from your cheeks and surprise your friend.

A short while later the large group, consisting of ten women and eight men, rang the doorbell at the apartment of the unsuspecting couple. Excited giggling echoed as the group was stood the narrow hallway.

The door opened quickly, revealing Clint on the other side, who feigned surprise at the appearance of the group. He stepped aside with a big grin on his face, allowing the group to enter the apartment. On the couch was Natasha, dressed to kill and you immediately knew that she had figured out her surprise long before you got there. You should have known that keeping a secret from the woman would be impossible. How she managed to do it, you didn't know, but in all the years that the two of you had been friends, you had never been able to get anything past her.

"Who told you?" You asked out loud trying to look stern and Natasha laughed mischievously, not answering the question. Everyone looked around, wondering if the culprit was amongst them. It didn't matter, not really. It would not stop anyone from having an amazing day. Shaking your head with a smile, you held out your hand, pulling her up as she took it.

Waving a quick goodbye to the men, you pulled Natasha out of the apartment as Wanda quickly grabbed her coat and handbag. Downstairs a large black Hummer limousine was waiting for them and Natasha jumped up and down giddily. At least that part seemed to be a surprise. Laughing at her happy reaction, you opened the door and waved everyone in.

When everyone had taken a seat, Wanda moved quickly, handing everyone a glass of champagne to share a toast on Natasha's happiness. As the cheers died down, all eyes turned to you, waiting for the itinerary for the day.

You chuckled at the sight of the eager women before retrieving a piece of paper from your bag. On it stood the entire day planned out, though you were not about to give them all the information. Instead, during your brainstorm sessions with Wanda and Maria, you had all decided to give the women one schedule item at a time. You hoped to create a fun-filled surprising day for everyone.

"Okay ladies, first stop is a vanity inducing photoshoot. We will be arriving in about 15 minutes, so have a drink and relax," you explained and several mirrors were pulled from purses to check up on make-up.

"Don't worry girls, we've got plenty of time for some finishing touches, as well as room to change," Maria smiled, glancing around the group. Relief fell over the giggling group after her announcement and everyone went back to chatting.

While most of the other women were catching up, Maria, Wanda and you were watching Natasha closely. She was staring out the window, a smile stretched on her face as she noticed just where the driver was taking the group.

"The beach?" She asked, eager for confirmation. You only nodded and her smile grew. She always did love the ocean, it had seemed the only place for this shoot. A quick glance was exchanged with Wanda and Maria as a weight was lifted off your shoulders. Despite the fact that all three of you knew Natasha better than anyone, there had been a small uncertainty that she would not like your plans. Her smile proved otherwise.

The sun was out, high in the sky, basking them all in the warm spring air as they spilled out from the car. Though the photoshoot itself would be on the beach, you had found a local beach club that was willing to put the whole group up. They had reserved a large table with easy access to the restrooms for everyone to get ready. Soon, make-up bags were pulled out and everyone got to work. Ahead of today everyone had received an email with the request to bring along a summery dress. For Natasha, you had been able to sneak one out of her closet one evening while she was busy cooking.

The shoot was incredibly fun, carefree and every single person in the group looked amazing. Everyone was smiling, laughing and overall relaxed. The photographer had a wonderful sense of humour and managed to keep the atmosphere light. By the end of the photoshoot, everyone was trying to brush off the sand that managed to get all over their dresses. The group then turned their attention to you again as you instructed them to change into loose fitting clothes, the second outfit of the day.

With everyone back in the car, Wanda prepared the group for the following hour and a half, in which they would get more active. More champagne was distributed and the laughter got a little louder. The same voices died down quickly, as the car stopped in front of a gym, everyone wondering what the plan was.

Smirking, you ushered them inside where you were greeted by an instructor. The woman, who introduced herself as Aliyaah, quickly began to explain her class. Pole dancing. Not long after, everyone gave it their best try with Aliyaah's help. It was safe to say that most of the women in the group were not made for a career in dancing, let alone pole dancing. Most only managing to move around it with their feet placed firmly on the ground, laughing loudly as they did so. Perhaps the amount of alcohol already consumed didn't really help matters either.

Luckily no injuries occurred and after a quick shower and a last outfit change, everyone moved to the restaurant two doors down from the gym. There, an array of starters was already waiting for them. Famished from the work-out, everyone was happy to sit down and eat.

When the food was gone and another two hours had come and gone, the women filed back into the waiting car. It drove them back into the city centre where they would commence their bar crawl, after dropping their bags off. By now at least half of the group was already far too loud and unable to stop laughing long enough to have a meaningful conversation. And everyone seemed to be having a good time. Every laugh seemed to chip away at the weight you had been carrying on your shoulders. Finally you could accept that the day had gone off without a hitch. It had been a success, you could stop stressing. Almost at least, you wouldn't fully relax until your head hit your pillow tonight.

Entering the first place, Maria immediately went over to the bar and ordered shots for the whole group. Soon enough, Natasha was dancing with her cousin, Carol, and some of the other women while you wondered about the right amount of time to spend at any given bar. Maria shrugged at your pondering, figuring that you'd move if the group began to get bored.

That was the reason it took another hour at least for the group to re-assemble and move to the next bar, a decision that had been made upon Natasha's request. You should have known she had something up her sleeve at that point, but you all followed her to the next bar, oblivious to her intentions.

It wasn't until she took off at a run, inside the bar and jumped into the waiting arms of her fiancé, that you caught on to her ploy. Shaking your head with a smile with a smile etched on your lips, you turned around to see the rest of the group laughing at what just happened and you shrugged, laughing along with them. Might as well enjoy hanging out with the men. Maria winked at you, before happily joining her boyfriend at the bar, accepting the drink he was already ordering for her.

Walking over to the bar yourself, you waited patiently for the bartender to notice you and ordered yourself a drink. As you waited for the drink to be served, you took a deep breath and looked around the bar, seeing most of the people in your combined group already dancing and enjoying themselves. The day really had been great and there was nothing more planned. Rolling your shoulders back and stretching your neck, you smiled as the tension eased out of your body.

"Weight of your shoulders?" An all too familiar gruff voice asked from behind you and you sighed, basking in the scent that seemed to surround him even in this crowded place.

"Well you know me, I can't truly relax until it's done." your perfectionism often keeping you on edge. Which was why you were so grateful for Maria and Wanda today, they usually knew just what to say to keep you calm and turned to look at Bucky as he stepped up next to you, a small smile played on his lips as he nodded at your answer. He knew this about you very well.

This man used to be your calm, but now his mere presence made you tense. Standing close to him, you could feel the heat radiating off of him and you were tempted to reach out and touch him. However, you feared that it would only scare him off, so you refrained from doing so. Instead you settled for the intense sense of happiness that flowed through you, because of the simple fact that he had chosen to approach you when he didn't have to do so.

"How are you holding up?" you asked and he shrugged.

It was only then that you noticed that he had been practically hidden in a quieter corner of the place, behind the circular bar. There weren't too many people on this side of the bar since it was more narrow. He had probably chosen the spot because if that little factoid.

"Taking care of yourself?" You added, turning away only to grab your glass as it was placed behind you, focusing on him again. He shuffled on his feet, hands pushed into his pants pockets and his eyes on the floor.

"Sure" was his only answer, before Carol called out to you, distracting you for a single moment. As you turned to respond, Bucky was quick to sneak off.

With a sigh, you shook your head and resigned on the fact that it was all the conversation you were going to get. As you tried to push Bucky from your mind, you moved towards Carol, Natasha and Wanda who danced wildly to the musical beat that shook the floor as it poured from the sound-system.

* * *

_**A/N:** Another huge thank you to the wonderful beanstalk007 on Tumblr for helping me with this chapter!_  
_And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated! And if you want to get tagged, let me know._


	4. Chapter 4

**Flashlight**

* * *

_Chapter four_

* * *

With the stress of planning the bachelorette party weighing heavily upon you for the past few weeks, you were exhausted. While everyone else was still dancing, talking and overall having a wonderful time, you took a moment to yourself and ordered water at the bar. With a sigh, you sat down on a barstool, giving your feet a much needed, momentary reprieve from the ache inducing heels you were wearing. They looked amazing, really, but after such a long day, they mostly just hurt.

You couldn't wait for the moment you would arrive home and were able to kick them off, discard them in a dark corner of your room and ignore them for a while. You imagined the moment when the cold from your apartment floor would ease the aching before you could lay down in bed with a pillow underneath your legs to elevate them. You could only hope that it would help enough for the pain to be gone in the morning. Or at the very least to be minimised.

Not too far from you, Natasha was still happily dancing and having a blast. Having reached her alcohol limit hours ago, she no longer felt the pain in her feet. You had to make sure that she too took percussions once she got home.

She was currently dancing with Clint, pushed up against him in a slow dance, despite the fast music that was playing through the speakers. They smiled at each other as they seemed completely unaware that anyone else was even still there, fully captivated by one another. It really was a beautiful sight to behold and the smile on your lips grew wider as you stared a little longer. The love they felt for one another was clear as day in their exchange.

Eventually, you diverted your eyes from the happy couple to look around the place in search of the rest of your friends. A chuckle escaped your lips when you noticed that Sam and Maria had roped Wanda and Steve into some silly drinking contest, Maria cheering victoriously as she won. It never ceased to surprise you that she would still find people willing to go against her. There were very few people as competitive as her and somehow she managed to win just about anything. Not even Sam could keep up, though even when he was on the losing end, he would be the first and the loudest to cheer her on. Once more shown by the high five he gave her as soon as she finished her happy dance.

Wanda seemed a little unsteady on her feet as she stepped back from the table and Steve was quick to catch her arm in his strong grip. Whoever thought a girl her size should compete with the other three should be stoned, you jokingly thought to yourself, knowing full well that nobody could have stopped the girl from trying. Ever the optimist, she was.

As you checked the time on your phone your eyes widened in surprise when you realised that it was only midnight, it felt much later. Probably because you had started drinking early in the afternoon. Not advisable to anyone, really.

Carol and her wife, Val, had said goodbye over an hour ago, explaining that they'd have to get up early in the morning for their baby son. You made sure they got safely into a cab before returning to the party. Right now, you were slightly jealous that they had a good excuse. You really wanted to get rid of these shoes and you wished you had brought flats.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a shimmer of light ricocheting off of metallic and you snapped your head in its direction, hoping it was Bucky. It wasn't, the reflective strip on the wall was playing tricks on you.

You hadn't seen him since your conversation hours ago and you wondered if he was still there. Would he leave without saying another word? He could. He had no obligation towards you. You just hoped he hadn't.

It should not have been so surprising that the reflection had not come from Bucky's arm. He'd been hiding his prosthetic underneath wide sweaters since he got back into town. Undeterred by the warm spring temperatures, he had not shown the arm once. Even during the dinner with his friends, you had only caught a glimpse of it as he finally released the sleeve of his sweater to pick up his utensils. That small glimpse informed you that it was not the same prosthetic that he'd had two years ago.

That first arm had been the colour of Wanda's pale skin, which stood out against Bucky's tan. As Bucky had said it back then, it stood out like a sore thumb. That first arm had made him incredibly self-conscious. The new arm was dark, anthracite of colour. It still didn't seem easier for him to accept the attached limb, though he did move it much easier than he had before.

You remembered his first fitting, three years ago now, a day etched deeply into your brain. A day that broke your heart. He hadn't been ready and you hadn't seen it until it was too late.

_Bucky was seated in a comfortable chair, though his body was rigid, stiff, as if he had never been more uncomfortable. Which was probably true. On his forehead was a shimmer of sweat and his eyes shifted around the room in quick movements. His entire being was on high alert._

_He was so tense. You gently placed a hand on his shoulder, wishing to help him calm down. It didn't help, though. He shook off your hand, by standing up from the chair and pacing the length of the room in quick angry strides._

_His move, a shining example of the distance that had been created between the two of you over the past few months. It had been hard to realise and even harder to change. Bucky had stopped talking to you, couldn't share the burden he was carrying, keeping you from trying to close the gap. The house you shared no longer a haven of happiness and love, instead it was now cold and dreary. You had never known it was possible to miss someone who was laying right beside you, until then._

_When the doctor walked into the room with two prototypes that he placed on the table in front of Bucky, his breathing became irregular. Silently he regarded them, his remaining arm pulling at the collar off his shirt. He was panicking._

_Stepping forward, you placed a hand on his arm and pulled gently, turning him towards you._

_"It's okay, baby, you're safe here," you whispered rubbing his arm with one hand while the other was placed on his cheek. His eyes looked into yours unseeing, panic and pain coursing through the blue depths. He didn't seem able to calm his own breathing and you knew you had to act quick if you wanted to keep him from hyperventilating._

_"If you're not ready, we can leave" you added, realising that perhaps it had been too soon for him. He was yet to get used to the stump, he wasn't ready to cover it up. Tears slipped from his eyes and you pulled him into a hug, holding him close to you._

"Where did you go off to?" Maria's soft spoken question pulled you back to the present. Her sigh of relief mirroring yours as soon as her feet left the floor when she sat on the barstool next to you.

"What?" Confused, you looked at her, it didn't register that she had meant it figuratively.

"I don't know where you went, but it was far off." she smiled and followed the direction in which you had been staring. Maria frowned as there was nothing to see, some couples kissing and people talking as they stood in line for the toilets.

"I keep being pulled back down memory lane." you finally offered and glanced over to where Bucky was standing next to Steve, a drink in hand as he cautiously glanced around the room. His body obviously on high alert, much like it had been that day. He was uncomfortable.

"How are you holding up?" Maria wondered now, understanding just what had you going down that road.

"Besides spacing out?" You laughed and Maria chuckled along, "I'll be fine," you promised her and she nodded her head once, certain that you would be. That was the moment Clint walked up with a tray full of shots, calling everyone that still remained closer.

As soon as everyone held one of the tiny glasses, he began to thank them for coming. Saying just how happy their presence made him and his soon-to-be wife. Cheering, you all downed the drink quickly. The vile taste of the shot making you cough as it went down your throat. Liquorice, there wasn't much you thought more vile than that. However, you were outnumbered in that belief as the rest quickly asked for more.

You happily declined, offering your share to Natasha who happily accepted while you turned in your seat and ordered yourself another water. That had been enough alcohol for you. You still had to get the happy couple home in a little bit.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Bucky moving towards the door and you glanced over to Steve who caught your eye and shrugged. He didn't know why he was leaving either. Handing the blond your glass, you quickly followed the brunet outside.

"Are you leaving?" You called out, regretting that you had not grabbed a coat as you wrapped your arms around yourself in a weak attempt to keep warm, your breath turning white as it left your mouth. Despite the warmth of the day, temperatures still dropped in the evening this time of the year. Bucky stopped, his long locks blowing in the wind, wavered a moment, before turning and walking back to you in a few quick strides. He sighed, looking around the street, effectively avoiding your eyes.

"It's…too busy" he finally said after a silence that felt much longer than it probably had been. You felt a sting in your heart as his words landed. You'd never thought of that. Never bothered to ask if he was okay. You had just assumed, since he used to be the life of the party. Back in the day, he was the first to drag everyone clubbing, the first to throw a party for whatever reason he could find. The more the merrier was his motto when it came to invitations. None of that applied to him anymore, you knew, though it obviously still was hard to actually consider.

"I'm sorry Buck. Why don't we get the rest and move this to my place?" You offered, wanting him to feel comfortable without pulling away from everyone. Though having him come to the house you had once shared together might have been weird for him as well.

"No, you have fun. I'll be fine" he shook his head, ready to turn away from you again.

"It wouldn't be a problem" you said, a hand on his elbow, gently keeping him in place. He just shook his head and gently moved out of your grasp. He began walking again and as he did, you felt the tears burn the back of your eyes again. As if he was leaving you all over again, even though that wasn't fair. This just wasn't his scene anymore.

A shaky breath left your mouth as you kept watching him until he turned a corner. That was when you finally moved again and walked back inside, greeted by six inquiring looks.

* * *

**A/N:**As is clear by the regular updates, I am still on sick-leave. Giving me plenty of time to write...though not always enough energy. Anyway, I'm hoping you all liked this new instalment.  
Feedback would be greatly appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

**Flashlight**

* * *

_Chapter five_

* * *

"God, I can't sit still" Natasha exclaimed, waving her hands wildly, as she got up from her seat for the umpteenth time and began pacing the room. Her make-up and hair were done, her dress ready to be put on. She however, was not ready quite yet. You chuckled as you sat in a chair while Wanda repaired the damaged nail polish on your left big toe. She was waving her hand as if it would help the polish to dry quicker. Wanda smiled as she rolled her eyes at Natasha's antics, the bride had been dramatic all morning.

"Just keep breathing," Maria said from her spot in the bathroom. She was the first to get into her dress.

"Why am I nervous?" Natasha wondered out loud and you laughed. The always confident Natasha was suddenly out of her element. You were certain that it was the situation, rather than the man she was marrying. And you told her as much. She nodded, agreeing with you.

Wanda stood up and stepped in front of Natasha, placing her hands on her arms, keeping her still. She ordered the bride to take a few deep breaths with her, until her heartbeat slowed down. Eventually it did and you handed her a glass of water, before grabbing the wedding dress and placing it low, so Natasha could easily step into it. You and Maria made quick work of the laced back, pulling it tight, while Wanda kept up the breathing routine.

When the dress was firm in place, Natasha appeared to be a lot calmer, as she stepped in front of the large mirror to stare at her own reflection. She displayed a soft smile as she gently wiped her hands over the soft fabric of the dress.  
You took her hand, giving it a quick squeeze, before checking the time and realising you would need to get dressed soon. Dropping your robe, you made quick work of it, Wanda pulling up your zipper and you doing the same for her.

Maria had stepped out a few moments ago to check on the schedule, returning quickly to say it was all still going smoothly. It was time for everyone to take their places.  
Natasha's father had followed Maria, and he gushed over the pretty picture that his beautiful daughter was. Natasha smiled as he did so and happily took his arm, before leaving the room.

The Father-Daughter duo waited at the end of the hallway, just out of sight of the groomsmen, while Maria, Wanda and you quickly joined the men. Steve quickly took your hand, placing it in the crown of his arm. With a smile he pulled you closer. Smiling back you tried to relax your shoulders, before glancing behind you. Bucky stood awkwardly next to Wanda, tugging at his tie, While Sam made a point of kissing Maria's hand before he offered his arm for her to take.

Bucky stared at the ground and you looked over at Wanda, who just nodded reassuringly at you, before muttering soft words to the man beside her. He nodded as she gently rubbed his arm. Finally he cracked his neck, trying to relax the muscles, though his shoulders were still raised high. Music began to play and you turned back around, unable to do anything other than place a smile on your face, as the doors opened and Steve began to guide you towards the aisle.

All seats were filled, smiling faces everywhere as you walked into the beautifully decorated room. The oak chairs were adorned by white flowers, the carpet underneath your feet a beautifully silky white, complementing those flowers. You imagined it would also highlight the beautiful dress that Natasha was wearing.

A few steps ahead of you walked the flower girl, Cassy, spreading white and red rose petals around. Though it should be pointed out that Cassy's idea of spreading the petals mainly consisted of the little toddler dropping handfuls every few steps, keeping the petals in little heaps. Not that it mattered, she was absolutely adorable.

You could not bite down the chuckle that she pulled out of you. Next to you, Steve had the same issue, a soft smile on his face as he looked at you. He always was a softie with children. Who were you kidding, he was a full on softie overall.

Cassie reached the end of the silky carpet, dropped her basket and ran over to Clint, asking him loudly if she did good. Squatting in front of her, he told her just how proud he was of her and she turned around beaming as she walked over to her parents.

Finishing the walk to the aisle yourself, Steve guided you up the platform before releasing your hand and stepping up behind Clint. You smiled brightly at Clint as he shifted on the balls of his feet, glancing back to the door at the end of the room every few seconds. He obviously couldn't wait for his bride to walk through it.  
When the rest of the bridal party had joined the three of you on the platform the music changed and the doors opened once more to reveal Natasha on the arm of her beaming father.

Clint's mouth gaped open, seeing her for the first time in her dress and Natasha blushed a little as she and her father began to move closer. You could see that she was grasping her father tightly, and you smiled. Nerves were clearly still racing through her body. You were certain they would be gone as soon as the ceremony was done.

When they reached the platform, her father hugged both her and Clint before sitting down next to her mother on the first row. Her mother was already shedding tears and from behind her Carol offered a tissue. You smiled at Carol who shook her head, while laughing silently, before turning your attention back to the couple before you. Natasha's mother was known to cry quick, though you were hard pressed to imagine a better reason for these happy tears.

"Ladies and gentlemen, friends and family, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Clint and Natasha. Through their years together, they have come to realise that their personal hopes, dreams and goals are far more attainable and much more meaningful through the combined efforts and mutual support provided in their love and commitment for one another." The minister began, a microphone helping his voice boom through the room.

The minister began to speak of their first meeting, their first date and the love they shared and you were surprised by the lump in your throat. It was a beautiful speech, only enriched by the loving looks that the couple shared. The twinkle in Clint's eyes showed so much love for the woman before him and you were certain that her eyes portrayed the same.

Your eyes shifted over to Steve who was beaming at the couple, standing proud behind them. He was so happy for them, his smile so big, it almost made you wonder if he'd have to unscrew his jaw by the end of the night.

"They wish to share this day with you, as the ideals, understanding and mutual respect that they bring to their life together had roots in the love, friendship and guidance you all have given them throughout their lives." The minister's words barely reached you as you looked at the faces of those around you.

Moving from Steve, you looked at Bucky. He too was smiling, focussing all his attention on the couple as he was wringing his hands. It was the only tell informing you that he was still incredibly nervous. Still, there he was, standing in front of all these people. Of which he didn't know half. He really was a good friend.

Sam was glancing from the couple to his girlfriend with a smile and you suppressed a chuckle. That boy was so in love, it was just too cute. There was a softness to his smile and love in his eyes that he didn't show everyone. Usually he was too busy making sure that everyone was having a good time.

Turning your attention back to the couple, you tried to focus on what the minister was saying, though it felt that he was just droning on now. The couple still hadn't said a word. The ceremony having not reached their vows yet. Your gaze shifted back to Bucky again and looked him right in the eye. Apparently he had been looking at you as well.  
You blushed and smiled at him, before berating yourself and staring at the happy couple instead.

The minister asked the couple to hold hands and placed his own around theirs before speaking once more.

"The promises made today and the ties that are bound here greatly strengthen your union and will cross the years and lives of each soul's growth. Do you seek to enter this ceremony?"

"Yes we do." The couple replied quickly with bright smiles across their faces. They were ready.

"Now it is my understanding that you have both prepared your own vows" the minister mentioned and they both nodded eagerly. The minister smiled at their keen responses before telling Clint to speak. Clint nodded again, glancing at their entwined hands and shifted nervously on the balls of his feet again, taking a deep breath in before looking back up at Natasha with a smile.

"Natasha, my love, my everything. I am here today to promise you that I will love you until the end of time. To be your strength when you feel weak, your eyes when you can't see, your voice when you cannot speak. You'll never want for anything." He paused a moment, clearing his throat as the glistening of his eyes signals just how strong the emotions coursing through him were. He took in another deep breath before he continued.

"You are my light in the darkness, and I wish to be the same for you. I love you so much," his words were soft spoken, determination shining in his eyes as he stared into hers.

Hearing Natasha sniffle, told you how his words had touched her. The minister gave her the floor and she began to speak, her words a little strained with the emotions flowing through her. Your hands ached to touch her, comfort her, but this was not the time. Besides the emotions were not sad anyway. So you stood your ground, proudly witnessing the unification of this couple that you loved so much.

"Clint, from this day forward, I will be your wife. A title I do not and will not take lightly. I promise to cherish you, love you and honour you. To stand by you in your successes and your failures. To make you laugh as often as I can, and to offer a shoulder when you cry. I promise to be your friend, your partner in this journey we call life. And I will never waver in my devotion to you. You have made me feel more loved than I ever thought possible and I will forever love you just as fiercely."

You didn't need to see Natasha's face to know that tears would be flowing. Who could blame her, you thought as you wiped your own away. Clint beamed as her as he squeezed her hands.

Unable to help yourself, you glanced over to Bucky, understanding that these vows had left him untouched as his eyes shined with unshed tears that he tried hard to blink away.

There was a pain visible in his eyes that took your breath away and when he caught you staring, it only intensified. You didn't blush this time as you stared into his eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat, you offered him a small smile instead.

The minister didn't pause long after their vows, asking for the rings. Sam stepped forward, handing the couple their wedding bands, so they could exchange them. They smiled as they accepted them.

As they placed the ring on their lover's fingers, they recited the same sentence, unifying the ceremony in a way that you had not expected and agreeing that it only elevated the words that had been spoken before.

"This ring is a token of my love. I marry you with this ring, with all that I have and all that I am"

Still beaming with joy, they looked up at the minister, ready for him to finish this up. Ready to kiss and start their married life together.

"By the power vested in me by the State of New York, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss"

Clint closed the distance between them swiftly, dipping Natasha low as he placed a passionate kiss on her lips. The guests cheered loudly and you could not hold back the happy laughter bubbling in your throat.

When Clint helped Natasha stand up straight once again, pecking her smiling lips, the minister introduced them for the very first time as Mr. And Mrs. Barton. Again loud cheering filled the room and the couple looked at the crowd, broad smiles on their faces, taking it all in for a small moment, before the minister asked them to sign the certificates that lay on a table left of the platform they were on.

Clint took Natasha's hand and entwined his fingers with hers as he guided her off the platform and towards the table, taking the pen a clerk offered and signing quickly, before letting Natasha do the same. You and Steve followed suit, signing with a giddy feeling buzzing through your entire body.

The couple stepped back to the middle of the room, walking back over the white carpet and out the door, while loud applause guiding their way. Next, you stepped up the first step leading to the platform, facing the guests and explained that there would be busses outside to take everyone to the photo location. The couple would already be there to take some pictures together. The busses would leave in a little more than 15 minutes, to follow them for the group shots.

Slowly the guests got up from their seats and made their way out of the room, collecting their coats, purses and whatever else they needed for the photoshoot. After the pictures were taken, you would come right back here for the reception, dinner and following party.


	6. Chapter 6

**Flashlight**

* * *

_Chapter six_

* * *

With shaking hands you picked up the small spoon and tapped it against your glass, the anticipated sound quickly causing a hush to fall over the room and its inhabitants, all chatter slinking until none was left. You stood, hesitantly, a little nervous to give the speech you were expected to give.

The words had been carefully prepared and memorised, though the nerves of speaking in front of a large crowd nearly made you forget them. Shaking hands pushed into the fabric of your dress in an attempt to appear calm, clenching and unclenching out of sight as you took a deep breath to steady yourself.

"Today," you cleared your throat, hoping to minimise the nerves residing in your voice, "Today we celebrate a joyous event. The union of two wonderful people that I am lucky to call my friends," the words came out rushed, flowing from your mouth quickly as nerves got the better of you. Natasha smiled encouragingly up at you from her seat and took your hand in hers, squeezing it gently. Clint winked from his place on the other side of his wife. Another deep intake and you nodded, looking back out into the room of people, friends and family. You could do this.

"I'm not always good with words, or crowds for that matter," you joked, relieved when chuckles rose around you.

Unintentionally you glanced over at Bucky and you thought of all the times your words had failed you with him. You had been unable to make him stay. He quickly diverted his eyes, looking at the napkin placed next to his plate instead. A good incentive for you to continue.

"Which is why I borrowed some words from Amanda Bradley:

_To love is to have someone special_  
_On whom you can always depend_  
_To be there through the years,_  
_Sharing laughter and tears_  
_As a partner, a lover, a friend._

_To love is to make special memories_  
_Of moments you love to recall._  
_Of all the good things_  
_That married life brings,_  
_Love is the greatest of all."_

You smiled as the two paragraphs of the poem fell easily from your lips. Your eyes once more trained on the couple besides you, who in turn were again gazing at one another. Completely entranced by the other as the words reached their ears.

"To the greatest love of all. To Clint and Natasha" you added, raising your glass and the other occupants of the room cheered, raising their glasses in the direction of the couple.

Sitting down quickly you sighed in relief, the part you had been dreading was over. Especially after Steve's wonderfully funny and touching speech, giving yours had been daunting. Now that it was done, you felt the tension that had built up in your neck and shoulders. Stretching slightly, you hoped to ease it. You knew it was futile. Until the night was over, tension would run amuck in your body and mind. Still, a huge part was over and it would certainly be less now.

* * *

Dancing in the arms of Steve, later on in the evening, more tension began to ease out of your body. Leaning your head on his shoulders, you let him sway you to the gentle tones of the music. One hand wrapped in his large one, an arm wrapped around your waist, you felt safe to let your mind wander.

These past weeks, so many feelings had been drawn to the surface and you could no longer deny your feelings, there was no ignoring it. As much as you tried to convince yourself and everyone around you that you were over Bucky, his mere presence had been enough to prove you wrong, driving home the realisation that you still loved him. The amounts of time that you had glanced his way, even involuntarily, had shown you the feelings hiding away in the depths of your heart.

The depths that had never let go of Bucky. You just got better at hiding it, pushing the feelings down. And who knows, if he hadn't returned, it might have worked. It might have helped you to get over him in the long run. But he did return, he was back in town. Even though you didn't know for how long.

Your feelings were messy, complicated and dramatic and you hated it. Preferring things to be more neat. Still, you hoped he would stay after the wedding. Not necessarily to be with you, you had no idea if he still had any feelings for you at this point. But this was his home, his friends were here. Friends that missed him, wanted to help him, be there for him. Yes, you really wanted him to stay. Even if your feelings would never be resolved. Even if you never got the closure you so desperately needed.

"Are you okay?" Steve's soft voice pulled you from your thoughts, his hand gently rubbing your back, "Did the door bite?" he asked jokingly and you knew what he was hinting at. He wasn't one for subtlety.

"Something certainly did," you shrugged, unsure if you should tell him of your feelings. Instead, you asked him for his, "How are you?"

"Really glad that he came home," Steve murmured and you moved your head from his shoulder, wanting to look him in the eye. Steve didn't often open up about his feelings, and you wanted him to know that he could. You would listen.

"Me too," you agreed with a smile, "Have you been able to catch up?"

"Yeah, a little,"

You wanted to ask him what they talked about, if you had been mentioned, if Bucky would stay. But that would be intruding and you didn't want to push it. Steve glanced around the room, avoiding your gaze.

"That's good" you finally said, pressing your head against his shoulder again.

"Yeah" his agreement coming out a whisper.

"You know you can talk to me right" something was clearly on his mind, even if he was trying to play it cool.

"Right back at you" he smiled, hugging you close once more, before leading you off the dance floor, "Time for a drink, don't you agree" he added with a chuckle and you smiled as you followed him to the bar.

With a much needed drink in hand, you stood side by side watching all people still on the packed dance floor. A lazy smile formed on Steve's lips as he saw Clint goof around. You chuckled and sipped your drink. No conversation was needed, his laughter was drawn by the same actions as yours.

"Hi there, cowboy, care for a dance?" Wanda called out as she walked over to the two of you, she smirked as Steve rolled his eyes at the nickname. Wanda had always been in the business of picking nicknames for people, rarely sticking to one per person. Steve however was her special little project, using a new one for him pretty much every other day.

He shook his head with a loud barking laugh slipping from his mouth, downed the drink in his hand and took the hand she held out for him. You smiled as they walked off, a quick song coming on, prompting Wanda to sway her hips to the beat. Soon they were both moving across the floor in strange exaggerated movements, laughing loudly at their own antics.

You continued to sip your own drink, humming along to the music, tapping your feet to the rhythm. Natasha and Clint were yet to leave the dance floor, having been on there since their first dance and they could not stop smiling. They had danced with their parents, friends and family, but always remained close to one another. Reaching for one another whenever they could. As if the wedding had turned them back into teenagers in love, unable to be parted for long. It was cute. Dehydration, however, was not and you made a mental note to hand them a bottle of water in a few minutes.

"You look beautiful," Buck muttered softly as he moved to stand next to you. Your heart skipped a beat and a blush formed on your cheeks, reaching down your neck. Immediately your hands began to shake as a heat coursed through your body. They were only words, but they held such power coming from him. It would never leave you untouched.

"Thanks," the blush didn't leave and you were ready to fan yourself, "you clean up nicely too."

Surely, he must have remembered how much you liked him in a suit. Bucky had the good sense to blush at your words, a small smile forming on this beautiful lips as he cast his eyes down to the floor. You took the time to take in his form, without him really noticing. He had taken off his jacket, revealing the crisp white shirt underneath. The sleeves weren't long enough to pull over his hands and he fidgeted a little, before pushing his prosthetic hand into his trouser pocket. You glanced at it for a moment before turning your attention back to his face. If only there was something you could say to make him less insecure about it. You just weren't sure if he was ready to really hear it.

Standing next to each other in silence, constantly glancing from the other to the dance floor, a few songs passed before another word was spoken. Just as you had gathered all the courage to ask him to dance, and him uttering a reluctant yes, the music changed and another slow song sounded from the speakers. Wide eyed you looked back at him, both already on the dance floor. Was this okay? Did he want to bail? Dancing in the same vicinity wasn't exactly the same as a slow dance. Touching wasn't a necessity with faster music, while a slow song made it a given.

In the past a slow dance had been one of your favourite past times with Bucky. Leaning against him, kissing his lips, feeling his arms around your waist. It had been good. But you had not danced together since he joined the army, and so much had happened since. Perhaps too much. Not for you, but for him.

You shrugged, leaving the decision to him.

Bucky stood still for a moment, inhaling sharply, before turning to face you. He grabbed your hand in his, pulling you closer. Happy that he choose to continue, you sighed as you moved closer to him still, allowing yourself a moment to drink him in, his presence, his warmth and his scent. Still as intoxicating as ever, even if he didn't seem to realise that.

He hesitated, his anthracite hand hovering. He seemed unsure where to place it and you froze for a moment, watching the struggle play out on his face. Then you took it in your own hand, placing it in between your bodies, on his chest, with your hand on his heart. You kept a firm grip on it and his breath hitched audibly. He avoided your eyes as he wrapped his other arm around your waist. His prosthetic hand holding yours in a firm grip.

Gently swaying, he lead you across the floor, his steps meticulous. All you had to do was follow. The dance as effortless as it had always felt with him and you relished in that fact.  
There was a silence between you two, but after he stopped worrying about his arm, it became a pleasant one.  
You wished this moment could last forever, but all too soon the final notes played and an uptempo song set in again, stalling your movements on the dance floor. Much to aware of him and your surroundings to ignore the change in tempo. There were simply too many messy emotions involved.

Neither one of you moved immediately, frozen in the moment, staring into each other's eyes. As you pulled in a deep breath, you leaned your forehead against his, your eyes closed as you tried to think of ways to prolong the moment. Nothing seemed right, and finally he began to pull back. Squeezing his hand, you exhaled slowly, keeping him close just a moment longer. His brows furrowed as you did so, but he stood still, giving you time.

"I miss you," you whispered.

The furrow in his brows increased and he seemed confused by your words. He stepped back slowly, turning his face to the side. Offering you a view of his profile instead. He closed his eyes, tensing visibly in his jaw as he grit his teeth. There was clearly a struggle going on inside his head and you regretted your words. Not because they weren't true, but you worried you had pushed him away, further than he already had been. He stood so close, but there seemed to be an insurmountable gap between your two. The walls he had pulled down during that wonderful dance, put back up again.

"I'm not the same," his shoulders slumped as he spoke those words and with a deep sigh he started walking again, leaving you to ponder his words. Tears burned behind your eyes, threatening to spill, when a warm hand closed around yours and spun you around in a fast circle.

Forcing a smile on your face, willing the tears to stay at bay, you caught the eye of your distractor. Quickly the smile became a real one as Clint held your hand in his, leading you further up the dance floor to dance with him and his wife.

No words were said, none were needed. He had seen the exchange and wanted to distract you, simultaneously showing you that he was there for you. You had known that really had some pretty amazing friends, you thought as Steve and Wanda joined the three of you.


	7. Chapter 7

**Flashlight**

* * *

_Chapter seven_

* * *

Waking up the morning after the wedding was hard. The drinking of too much alcohol had resulted in a pounding head, while dancing in high heels had created an ache all over your body.

Groaning, you blinked your eyes open, only to quickly shut them again, raising your hand to help shield your eyes from the protruding light that spilled into the room. There wasn't much of it with the curtains still firmly closed, but the small slivers of sunshine that managed to push past those curtain were enough to burn.

Your mind was groggy, your mouth dry. This was definitely worse than you had ever experienced before and a part of you wanted to reach out to the glass on your nightstand. However, since that required moving your aching head, you refrained from doing so. Choosing instead to bury your face further into your pillow, pulling the blankets higher over your form.

It wasn't long before sleep pulled you back into its warm embrace, saving you from the harsh realities of day and instead allowing you to bask in the ignorance of dreams a little longer. Proving that ignorance truly was bliss, for the life in your dreams wasn't a complicated, painful ordeal. It was simple and calm and beautiful.

In your dreams, Bucky never left. In your dreams, his last deployment had not changed your lives so drastically as it had in real life. For in your dreams, he had not been physically injured, walking away from the wreckage like some comic book hero. Returning home with a new outlook on life, as only a near death experience could provide. He wrapped you in his strong arms and vowed to never let you go. There was no ptsd, no prosthetic arm, nothing to make him doubt everything he ever thought or felt.

You even dreamed of the wedding you had planned but never got to experience. Of the dress you had been eager to wear, but had returned to the store long after he left. The sight of it only causing you grief.

You dreamed of his short cropped hair, a consequence of the army, brushed neatly to the side as he messed with the tie that he wasn't used to wearing. And his dazzling blue eyes, accentuated by the deep blue of his suit. In your dreams, he loved you. And he stayed.

Leaving the dreamworld behind was beyond excruciating. It was tearing at your insides, beating on your heart until it nearly stopped, only for it to increase so rapidly that it was almost beating out of your chest. Waking up the second time that day, broke your heart and crushed your soul in a whole new way. Perhaps the wedding had been weighing more heavily on your mind than you had initially thought.

Tears streamed down your cheeks when you finally sat upon your bed, pulling yourself fully from the agonising slumber. Your head still pounding, though it was overpowered by the pain in your heart and you suppressed a scream that threatened to spill from your lips, agony trying to force itself from your body in a horrifying shriek. The sound instead came out a torturous moan that tore at your throat, rasping it as if you had indeed been screaming at the top of your lungs.

Eventually, you calmed enough to take the glass of water from your bedside table, swallowing half of it down quickly in an attempt to sooth your throat. Opening the top drawer of the nightstand and pulling out two painkillers, you downed them with the remaining water.

You then untangled yourself from the blankets that covered you, you swung your feet over the edge of the bed and placing them firmly on the ground. You could only hope that they would carry you as you got up carefully. Standing still momentarily with a hand on the headboard, allowing yourself time to steady before moving towards the bathroom in small decisive steps. In no time at all, you stepped underneath the stream of water. It was yet to warm up completely, the cold effectively waking you up.

The cold of the tiles soothed your aching head as you pressed your forehead against it and the steam that clogged up the room did the rest. You took a long time, standing under that warm stream, letting the water wash over you, cascading over your strained muscles. By the time you got out, your fingers were wrinkled, but you felt much better. You took a deep breath and began to get ready for the rest of the day.

Brushing your hair in front of the large mirror in your bathroom, you realised that you were yet to check on the time. Brush still in hand as you moved to the bedroom, you were shocked that the clock read 12:45. Picking up your phone to double check, you saw that the battery had died somewhere during the night.

Plugging it in quickly before moving towards the pitching, you could hear it ping and buzz repeatedly. Though it almost pulled you back, you decided to get something to eat first. Four glasses of water and one sandwich later, you went back to your bedroom to finally check your messages.

The first message you opened happened to be from Clint and Natasha in the group chat, thanking all of you for what you had done in making their wedding day so special. Next were a few pictures from Sam, taken as everyone was dancing. Most of them a little blurry, but overall a nice representation of the fun that was shared. You could barely wait for the professional photos.

What followed were similar messages from Maria, Steve and Wanda, all asking if you were okay. For a moment you wondered if you had said something in your drunken stupor to make them worry but nothing came to mind. It wasn't as if you had been black out drunk. You liked keeping some semblance of control after all.

Wanda had sent a few more messages, obviously getting antsy because of your silence. She also left a voicemail. And as you entered the code to listen to it, you moved towards your closet and pulled on some leggings and an oversized shirt. As you got dressed, Wanda's voice rang clear through your room, concern heavy in her tone.

"Y/N, where are you? Haven't heard from you. Are you okay? Are you home? Please be home!"

The message went on, but the incessant knocking on your front-door kept you from hearing more. Turning it off, you stepped out of your room and walked towards the sound. Frowning you removed the locks and opened it. You were struck by the fretful body language of your auburn haired friend, a stark contrast to you own calm.

"Hi Wanda," you smiled, stepping aside to let her in. She hurriedly brushed passed you, dropping her purse on the floor next to the couch, handing her coat over the armrest. She then turned to look at you, her brows furrowed as she looked you over. Stepping closer to you, she placed her hands on your upper arms, rubbing them up and down, keeping her gaze on you. Concern was clear on her features. You raised a single eyebrow as you stared back at her, wondering where that concern originated from.

"Do you want to talk?" She asked gently, guiding you over to the couch with a hand on your back. You followed easily, sitting down with your feet tucked under you.

"Always, about what exactly though?" You finally asked as she too settled into the couch and she sighed deeply.

"Whatever brought you to tears last night…"her hand covered your own and you looked down at the kind gesture, letting the memories from last night wash over you. You hadn't forgotten, simply ignored them until now.

"Well, they did flow freely throughout the day, you've got to be more specific," you tried to joke, though you knew very well what she was talking about.

"Well, let's start at the beginning; your dance," she said, straight to the point and ignoring your weak attempt at humour. You sucked in a breath as the memory of your dance with Bucky played itself out in your mind. It was a nice memory.  
You shrugged, trying to play it off as you recounted the few words that had been spoken. The confession that you missed him, followed by his hesitation and admission that he was no longer the same person.

Wanda pressed a hand over her heart as she watched your face fall at the end. She knew how you felt, even without you telling her explicitly. Wanda always seemed to know how people were feeling. She was highly intuitive, with enough empathy to save humanity, you thought to yourself.

Though her life had not been easy, she still was so kind, gentle. It warmed your heart that the harsh realities of her life had not hardened her. She was incredibly strong, and resilient. Strong willed as well, you thought to yourself with a smile as you looked at your unrelenting friend. She was too stubborn to let the conversation go, you knew this.

"And later, after we waved them off?" Wanda pressed, referring to the end of the evening when all the guests had gathered to wave goodbye to the happy couple as they stepped into a cab. To them, nothing had seemed off. You had hugged your friends tightly, wearing an exhaustingly bright smile on your face as you did so. It had remained on your face as you waved enthusiastically as the bar followed the driveway and rounded the corner, turning onto the road again and disappearing from sight.

As soon as the car had left, the tears you had been so bravely holding back, spilled and you had walked away from the large crowd. Maria and Wanda had probably seen everyone off, while you had walked back to the lake, sitting on a bench and looking out over the water as the tears kept falling. As you thought back to it, you realised that the pounding headache from this morning could have been from crying.

You couldn't remember how long you sat there, but if Steve had not come to get you, you probably wouldn't have left that spot. Allowing him to drive you home, you had ignored his inquiring glances and prodding questions. You hadn't said a word. Not ready to tell anyone about the things you were feeling, the pain that sat heavily in your chest.

Now as you watched Wanda sitting next to you, looking at you expectantly, you wondered if you were ready now. Though, you thought, talking to her was perhaps slightly easier and less complicated than talking to Steve would have been.

Another breath sucked in harshly, holding it for a moment before slowly breathing out, you picked at the chipped nail polish on Wanda's fingers. Seeing the whole scene unfold before your mind's eye, you tried to figure out where to start.

_Fuelled by the alcohol in your system, you had followed after Bucky when he snuck out of the party late that evening. Emboldened as you were by the feelings that had erupted during your dance together and ignorant of his retreating back after you had told him that you missed him._

_Watching as he walked over to a bench by the water you gave him a few moments of solace before joining him. Stood behind the bench on the opposite end of where he was sitting, you remained silent. He looked up, seemingly unsurprised by your presence._

_"I'm fine," he said, "Just needed a breather. You can go back inside." His voice was soft and his eyes stayed trained on the water._

_"Are you sure?" You asked, moving around the bench, plopping down unceremoniously. Though you tried to sit up straight, you could feel your intoxicated body slump against the wooden seat._

_"It got a little loud for me, no biggie," he brushed off your concern and you turned to look at him, sensing there was more to it. No matter how much time had passed, you still knew him like the back of your hand._

_"Talk to me," you whispered and placed a hand on his arm. His prosthetic. Which he hardly pulled away from you. You frowned as his rejection stung you, pulling your hand back into your chest and cradling it as if burned by the action._

_"Is that it?" You wondered, your voice a little too shrill for your liking. You had wanted to be more calm._

_"What?"_

_"Your arm. Is that why you left me?" You managed to get the sentence out without spilling the sob that was building in your chest._

_"No. Yes," He nearly shouted out the words, before taking a deep breath, "Y/n, please. Let's not talk about this. Not here," he pleaded and you felt a tear slip from your eye, wiping at it harshly before turning your head to look at him._

_"Well we could've had this talk sooner if you had not disappeared on me," your tone was accusing and slightly more cruel than you had intended. still, it was true._

_"That's not fair," Bucky sighed, leaning forward, his prosthetic arm on his leg while his flesh hand covered his face._

_"None of it was fair, Bucky, but I just wanted to help you," your voice pleading once again._

_You just wanted him to hear you, to understand. You would have stood by him. Things had been far from perfect, obviously, and there was lots that you had yet to learn, growing to be done, but you had always been willing to do that._

_"And I needed to do it alone," he said as he turned his head to look at you, the pain in his eyes evident._

_"So, how'd that work out for you," you scoffed and he inhaled loudly, obviously fighting words that were threatening to fall from his mouth._

_That was the moment that Maria found the two of you, telling you that it was time to say goodbye to the happy couple. She had noticed the tension, took a moment to assess that you were both okay enough to actually say your goodbyes to Clint and Natasha, before walking ahead of you._

_Bucky never answered and you stood, brushing a hand over your face and plastering a fake smile onto it, hoping it was enough to fool the couple. They didn't need to be worrying about you on their wedding night._

You looked at Wanda, seeing her face as you finished your recount. It fell and in the blink of an eye you were pulled into a tight hug. Tears spilled again as you hugged her back just as tightly, holding onto her for dear life.

She held you until you had calmed down, pulling back to look you in the eyes. Her hands moved to brush the hair from your face, wiping at your tear streaked cheeks. She offered you a kind smile.

"You'll have to finish that conversation," she stated and you nodded, she was right. And since he never specified how long he would be in town, you knew you needed to act fast.

* * *

_**A/n:** Thanks to everyone that is reading this story! Love seeing those views go up every time._  
_And another thank you to beanstalk007 on tumblr for proofreading this chapter._


	8. Chapter 8

**Flashlight**

* * *

_Chapter eight_

* * *

After your emotionally draining conversation with Wanda, you had given yourself a much deserved reprieve. Allowing yourself to wallow in self pity for the rest of the day. You knew that soon enough, there would come a moment where you would have to confront Bucky. And, since you still had no idea just how long he would be in town, it would have to be soon. However, there were more pressing matters to be acted upon first. Like the matter of getting the newly weds to the airport in time for their honeymoon.

Which was why you found yourself in front of their apartment now, having knocked twice already. Impatiently you knocked again, still hearing no sound coming from behind the door. You sighed, you really didn't want to use your key. Who knew what state of undress you'd find them in if you did. Luckily you were early and there was still time to wait. If only you had acquired patience. Taking out your phone, you decide to type out a quick message to Natasha, hoping she would respond quickly. And when she didn't, you finally decided to call. Anything to avoid the risk of walking in on them.

"Knocked already?" Steve's voice startled you and you turned to greet him with the phone still pressed to your ear. She wasn't picking up. Behind Steve the door to the stairs closed loudly and it explained how he had managed to surprise you. No elevator ding to clue you in on his arrival if he took the stairs.

"No, I usually just wait until someone miraculously decides to open the door for me," you said, a sickeningly sweet smile on your lips and Steve chuckled. You couldn't help but join in.

"So, what are you doing here?" You asked, a little confused. Had you gotten your wires crossed? You would bring them and he would pick them up in a week. Or so you thought anyway. And though he was usually a welcome sight, your current inner turmoil had you a little more apprehensive. Steve was the kind of guy to talk things through. He'd want you to talk to him and you weren't sure if you were ready for that.

"Thought you could use the company for the ride back," he shrugged, standing next to you. You nodded, not willing to tell him no either. He was being a good friend. It wasn't his fault that you tended to pull back when things got rough. Besides that was one of your worst habits, perhaps it was time to change it. Isolating yourself wasn't going to help you. Or anyone else for that matter.

"I'm afraid we'll have to use the key," you finally whispered and he gasped loudly, his movements exaggerated as he placed a hand on his heart and stumbled back. You shook your head with a smile, he didn't seem to understand the predicament and you were not going to be the one to burst his bubble. Instead you handed him the key and opted to follow instead of leading the way.

He took it willingly, pushing it into the lock, unlocking the door quickly and stepping into the apartment. No sounds were heard as you stepped over the threshold. The living room was empty, the kitchen unused. Opening the fridge you noticed that at least the dish you had prepared for them for yesterday had been eaten.

A light went on in your brain and you gasped.

"They overslept" you stated and knocked loudly on their bedroom door.

From the other side of it you could hear Clint curse loudly, grumbling about it being too early as he stomped over to the door. Steve laughed and you smirked, waiting for your friend to come into view. And when the door was opened an angry looking man stood on the other side of it, with hair sticking in all directions, glaring as the two of you began to laugh merrily.

"What are you doing here?" Clint snapped, not in the mood for jokes and not yet making the connection to his departure either. He must have been in deep slumber before your knocking woke him up.

"I'm here to give you a ride, remember?" You offered simply and Clint appeared to mull over, his face contorted as his brain worked.

"That's not until noon," he finally responded and you held up your phone to show him that it was indeed noon. His eyes grew wider and he dropped the sheet he had been wearing around his waist. With a dramatic shriek you covered your eyes, turning quickly to avoid a peak. Inside the bedroom you could hear Natasha growling and behind you Steve laughed loudly.

"But I set the alarm," Clint mumbled feebly, seemingly unable to grasp the reality, while his eyes showed the panic that was growing in his tired brain.

"Guess you missed it bud," you offered with a shrug, "Why don't you get ready. What needs to be done?"

"Our carry on," he whispered and you nodded, still not looking at him, instead you pointed your hand in the direction of the bathroom. You didn't uncover your eyes until the door closed behind him.

Stepping into the bedroom you quickly grabbed some clothes for Clint, pushing them into Steve's arm and telling him to help his freaked out friend, while you focussed on Natasha and their carry on luggage.

Back in the room, you closed the door behind you and grabbed the robe that hung from the back of it, tossing it to Natasha. She was still trying to wake herself up and the panic her husband felt had not set in yet. Though you doubted that it would. She usually managed to at least appear calm as ever.

"Can we still make it?" She asked as she began to move through the room to get her things in order. You chuckled as you noticed she was going through her winter clothes and you took them from her hands and placed them back, before sitting her down on the bed.

"It'll be fine, Nat. You just get dressed and I'll get your luggage ready."

She nodded and finally got herself some clothes to wear, before moving towards the bathroom.  
When she was gone from the room, you pulled the curtains open, light filtering into the uncharacteristically messy room. You began sorting through the mess quickly, tossing everything they wouldn't need into a pile in the corner of the room, while the rest ended up on the bed. That way you could declutter as fast as possible, there was much time to waste now, despite the calm you had shown in front of your friends. You liked being everywhere on time. Early if possible. And therefore you may have fibbed a little about their departure time. That said, you had not calculated this mishap. Natasha had never overslept for anything in her life. She was usually more punctual than you were. Clint, on the other hand, did this all the time. Which was why you told them the little white lie.

"Need a hand?" Steve wondered as he stepped past the door frame.

"If you were Clint, what would you put in your carry-on?" You asked and he chuckled, walking into the room, ready to help you. The first things you gathered were the chargers and necessary papers.

Within half an hour the couple was dressed and checking the bag you had prepared for them, as you roped Steve into weighing the suitcases for them. When all was deemed sufficient, you hurried them out of the apartment and to your car. As you drove, you may or may not have ignored the speed limit a little. Something you never did, but you really wanted to get these two on that plane.

Natasha and Clint still couldn't believe they had overslept and kept thanking you and Steve for your help. Quick to ease their mind you confessed that you fibbed about their departure time. Steve laughed loudly, thanking you for taking Clint's less than punctual nature into account.  
The little white lie meant that there was only a fifteen minute delay to your schedule now, making you confident that it could be salvaged. If there were no delays at customs, there was no reason that the couple would not reach their gate well within their timeframe.

You hugged them goodbye, waving as they walked away, not stopping until they were out of sight. When they were, your shoulders slumped and you took a deep breath, leaning into Steve as he wrapped an arm around you. You knew the delay may have saved you from the usual prying eyes of your best friend and you were glad that pretending to be happy was over now.

"You did good," Steve said and placed a kiss on the top of your head, before steering you back towards the exit. You scoffed, already exhausted from all the rushing you had done. The entire time there had been a bright smile on your face, calming the couple and ensuring them that it would all be okay. They couldn't know that the smile was fake, not yet anyway. But faking such happiness was as tiring as the rushing had been, if not more so. Steve held out his hand and offered to drive back into the city to which you agreed, handing him the keys. Sitting on the passenger's seat, you allowed yourself to take a moment and closed your eyes. Tomorrow you had to go back to work and somehow it felt far too soon.

"How are you doing?" Steve asked. The drive back had passed by in silence, but now that you were parked in front of Natasha's apartment again, behind Steve's car, he decided it was time to speak. For a while there, you had thought that perhaps he wouldn't, though you should have known better.

"I'll be okay, Steve" you promised, a smile playing on your lips. You didn't want him to worry about you.

"I know that," Steve shifted in his seat, turning to look at you and shooting you a smile, 'But until then, is there anything I can do?" He asked, his face the epitome of compassion as he looked at you. You smiled back and sat up straighter, wondering if you had been far too selfish. Surely Steve would have feelings as well. His best friend came back home after two years and here everyone was worrying about you. You reached out and took his hand in yours, squeezing it gently.

"You're a good friend Steve." You mumbled. He raised an eyebrow at you, pressing for an answer to his question.

"I don't think there is much you can do here," you finally said, "I just have to confront this head on, don't you think?" Steve nodded, squeezing you back softly.

"For what it's worth, I don't think he's leaving just yet," He offered, that same compassionate smile on his lips and light in his eyes.

"I wish he'd stay," you confessed with a sigh, your eyes downcast.

"Me too," Steve admitted as he wrapped a second hand over yours. You turned your eyes back to him and nodded.  
His response showed you just how he felt. He had missed Bucky, just like you. And if he wasn't talking much to you about it, you just hoped he found someone else. Perhaps you could ring Sam up and ask him to look out for your blonde friend. Sam usually managed to get everyone to talk to him.

"I'll text him tonight, see if he can meet me this week," you promised, hoping Steve would accept and stop worrying about you so much.

Stepping out of the car, you made sure to pull him into a tight hug. Telling him that you'd always lend an ear if he needed one. Steve chuckled and nodded, before telling you not to worry about him and you scoffed. When would he learn, you always worried. You were much like him in that way.

Steve got into his car and with a last honk he drove off, leaving you on the sidewalk next to your own car, debating your next step. Finally you decided to get groceries for an easy dinner, before following up on your promise to Steve.

* * *

Swallowing the last bite of your salad, you pushed your plate away from you and stared at your silent phone. Postponing what you knew you had to do, you took your plate and moved into the kitchen. Turning the tap, you squirted some soap into the slowly filling sink and waiting a moment before dropping your dishes into the warm water.

Not long after the dishes were drying on the counter and you knew there were no more excuses to use. Gathering up all the courage you had inside of you, you moved back towards the living room. Though you were aware that calling would have been better, you didn't think there was enough courage inside of you today for that and decided on a text instead.

The words were difficult to find and shape into a coherent text. You kept wondering what the right words were in this situation. You didn't want to pressure him, even after two years it was clear that he was jumpy enough to run. Still, you needed this, as Wanda had rightfully pointed out. You needed closure. To figure out where you went wrong, what else you could have done and perhaps grow from it and move on. After a few tries, you settled on a sentence that seemed well enough. At least as good as it was going to get today.

'Do you have a moment to talk later this week?'

'sure' Obviously he wasn't jumping for joy, but he responded quick enough to ease your worries a little. If this response had taken him longer to type, you might have chickened out.

'when?'

'you still work on 7th street?' He typed back after a few minutes. The longest minutes.

'yes'

'I have an appointment there on Tuesday, why don't I meet you there after your shift?'

'okay. Thanks'

With a sigh you put down your phone again jitters slowly spreading through you. Tuesday. That was really soon.

* * *

_**A/N:** I really struggled to get this chapter written, knowing what I wanted in there but not entirely certain how. Hopefully it did not disappoint. _  
_Feedback is greatly appreciated. _

_And again a huge thanks to beanstalk007 on tumblr for the help with this chapter. _


	9. Chapter 9

**Flashlight**

* * *

_Chapter nine_

* * *

**Important notice!**  
**This chapter will deal with a panic attack and some possible triggers. If you are unsure if you should read this, please feel free to message me here or on tumblr and I will answer all your questions!**

* * *

When Tuesday rolled around, you were incredibly nervous. Or perhaps anxious was a better word for it. It was definitely more than nervous, with your stomach churning, your head aching and your hands shaking. That morning, your alarm had been set for seven, but after a sleepless night you had given up and got up at five instead. With a full day of work ahead, you took a long shower, hoping that the warm water would relax your tired, tense muscles.

By the time you headed out to work, you knew it would be a long hard day for you. It was difficult to focus on anything other than the clock, which was taking its sweet time ticking through the hours of the day. Halfway through the morning, you even got up and checked the battery of the large clock that hung above the door. Unfortunately, it wasn't running slow and resetting your computer didn't speed up the internal clock either. Time was simply moving at an excruciatingly slow pace today. Which it always seemed to do when you needed it to pass, of course.

Yesterday you had spend most of your time at work by getting through the emails that had piled up during your days off. Today, you were supposed to actually be a bit more active, but it was just not happening. Whenever you opened a new file, your mind got sidetracked, nothing was really sinking in and your eyes kept glancing back at that damn clock. However, eventually time did pass and the clock told you that it was 16.45. You quickly began saving the files of the day, shifting in your seat until the clock finally struck five. When it did, you practically ran from the room and out of the building.

Slightly out of breath, you stood by the front door, hoping to regulate your ragged breathing before Bucky arrived. For some reason, it felt important to appear calm in front of him. Even though you couldn't explain it, not even to yourself. In the past he would always see through you quite easily. Though right now, you weren't sure if he still could and even less certain if you wanted him to or not.

When had life gotten this complicated? And why?

You had known Bucky for most of your life and had always been comfortable around him, even during those initial stages of falling for him. So, why did you feel the need to hide away from him now? To appear any different from who you really were? He was a good guy. And you knew him better than anyone, or at least you hoped you did.  
You had been confident in your knowledge of him only three years ago, but now you weren't so sure. Perhaps too much time had passed after all.

You were still busy wigging out when a throat cleared next to you. Nearly jumping out of your skin, you looked up to meet those beautiful blue eyes that you loved so much. As always they seemed to see right into your soul.

Bucky smiled at your skittish response and a blush crept up on your cheeks. This was a great start…

"Hi," you mumbled, hoping the redness on your face would fade away soon, even though the burning feeling didn't seem to ease in the slightest.

"Hey," he replied and glanced down at his shoes, as if he couldn't look you in the eye for too long.

It occurred to you that perhaps he really couldn't and the thought left a bitter taste in your mouth. It still wasn't clear to you where he stood in this situation. Did he agree to meet you today to placate you, or because he wanted to talk things through? And had he moved on? It could be that he had done so long ago, and it was just you holding on to the past. Oh, what if he had moved on just as you realised that you had never stopped loving him?

Fiddling with your fingers, you stood next to him in silence while your mind was running in mind boggling circles. Neither one of you seemed able to talk. Bucky danced on the balls of his feet, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. For a moment you wondered if that was something he always did, or if being back here had made him more self conscious.  
It made you wonder if he had been able to move around more freely away from this place, in whatever city he had ended up. Making you realise just how little you knew of his life after he left. Where had he gone? His doctor had told him about someone in Seattle, who was doing trials with new prosthetics. He had been able to get Bucky into those trials, but you didn't know if he ever went there. Let alone if he stayed.

"So," Bucky drawled out as he finally broke the lingering silence, "Where did you want to go?"

You pondered his question. Naturally, you had thought about this all night and had driven yourself crazy by trying to think for him. What he would want and where he would be more comfortable. Finally you answered him with two options and hoped that one of those would appease him.

"I thought, well, but feel free to suggest something else," you muttered, before stopping yourself and taking a deep breath before continuing, "We could get a drink at that little cafe on 15th, or perhaps my place?"

You were actively hoping, crossing your fingers, that he would be okay with either of those options. There was so much that you didn't know about him anymore and you no longer trusted your judgement with him. You were scared that you didn't know him at all anymore and it was draining to dance around those uncertainties the entire time. You could only hope he would meet you halfway.

"Maybe your place would be better," he offered, wavering at the last word, and began walking. You followed him a beat later.

"Walking or subway?" Bucky asked after your steps synced with the other.

You looked up at the sky, it was blue with not a cloud marring the bright colour of it and the sun was beaming down on you. It created a nice temperature for the time of the year, not even wearing the jacket you had brought to work that morning. It felt like a shame to spend these moments on the train. After all, it wasn't too far from your place.

"You okay with walking?" You asked carefully, and he barked out a laugh before nodding.

"What?" You asked, confused by his laughter, though it did cause a smile to show on your features. His laugh was a good sound to hear and it eased some of your worries.

"You always did prefer walking," he offered with a shrug, the smile still etched on his face. You smiled back, happy that he still did seem to know you, even if this was just a small thing. It was comforting. And you decided then that you still wanted him to see right through you.

The next few moments were spent in silence. Though mostly comfortable, it did allow your mind to wander and soon enough you were driving yourself crazy with worry. It seemed impossible to tear yourself away from those thoughts long enough to break the silence that now lingered between the two of you. Even though that could help stop you from overthinking each word and every move you made.

"So," it was Bucky who finally tried to break the silence, "Sam and Maria seem to be going strong," he said. You wondered if he had been as eager to break the quiet as you had been.

"Yeah," you jumped at the opportunity of conversation, "sickeningly sweet really," you joked and he laughed again. The deep guttural sound of it warmed your heart and you were happy to realise that he still appeared to laugh rather easily. The sound alone was enough to make you fall for him all over again.

"Good," he seemed to mull over his words, "He's a good guy," he finally said and you nodded in agreement. Sam had proven himself to be a great guy a million times over.

You were just thinking of something else to say to keep the conversation going, when cars tires screeched behind you. A loud bang resounded and the crash that followed was deafening. It took you a second to realise what was happening and you turned slowly towards the sound.

A car skidded over the intersection, the driver hanging over the steering wheel, unmoving. A glance to the side showed you another car that had obviously taken a hit in the crash, a large dent covering the side of it. The door was pressed into the seat and you wondered briefly if anyone had been sitting there.

As if frozen, you stared at the wreckage before you. Shock had turned the blood in your veins icy cold and your breath got caught in your throat. From all the sides people were running towards the scene, ready to help whoever was in those cars. Smoke began to rise from the trunk of the heavily dented car and you saw someone running over with a fire extinguisher, ready to keep the flames from catching on.

It wasn't until a little girl, standing close to you, began wailing in a high pitch that you were shaken from your state and rediscovered the ability to move. As if on instinct you moved towards the edge of the sidewalk, ready to join the rest of the responders and help where you could. Before you did, you glanced back to where Bucky had been standing. Confused, you found the space behind you empty. You looked to the right, then to the left and stood stock still when you found him. Thankfully, this time, you overcame it much quicker. Though it still felt too long.

In a few quick strides you were by his side, where he had slid down the wall and onto the ground. He had pulled his knees up, his hands holding his head and he was rocking himself as he mumbled something you couldn't understand. All around you, people were drawn to the wreckage and as they moved towards it, they ignored Bucky, easily overlooking him. Just as well, you thought, he didn't need an audience.

Dropping down to the ground next to him, you wavered momentarily, wondering what he needed in this moment. Unsure if touching him would be a good idea. Still, you ached to wrap him in your arms and comfort him. It made you realise once more that you had so little knowledge of his PTSD, other than that he had it. You had no idea what his triggers were, though considering what had happened to him it should not have been a surprise that a crash such as this could push his buttons. You vowed to yourself that you would look into PTSD more, after you had helped him off the streets and through this moment.

For now you decided to act on your instinct and you wrapped an arm around him, speaking in soft comforting tones. Telling him that he would be okay and that the accident had been louder than it had been bad. You went as far as to say that the occupants had been able to get out of their vehicles on their own. Of course, you had no idea if this was true, but you were certain that he didn't need to hear the uncertainty right now.

It didn't matter either way, as your words didn't seem to reach him at all. Finally you got off the floor, bending awkwardly and asking a strong looking gentleman to help you get Bucky up. The man did so without question, pulling him up and helping you keep him straight, before walking off.

Bucky was too deep into his panic attack to be of any help. He appeared to have difficulty breathing and beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. He was shaking as you put his arm over your shoulders, placing your own around his waist and began walking, dragging him along as he clung to you.

Keeping your voice soft, you kept speaking to him, unbothered by his current inability to really hear you or respond. You explained to him what you were doing, where you were taking him and that he'd be safe there. You promised that, soon enough, he'd be able to curl up on the couch. You only hoped that he heard the gist of it. Leaning heavily on you, he kept mumbling, his words jumbled and incomprehensible. You still didn't understand any of it.

The few blocks from work to your home had never appeared as long as it did now, but you didn't stop. You couldn't. Bucky needed you more than he ever had before and you were not about to let him down. You wanted to get him inside, to a place where there would be little to no negative influences. A big part of you was afraid that any sudden sound or touch could push him further into his attack. And it pained you that you had no control over any of it whilst you were outside, you needed a more controlled environment. And at home it would be just you. There would be silence and calm. Hopefully that was what he needed.

Groaning under the weight of his tall muscular body, you struggled to get the keys into the lock. It took awhile for you to open the door to your apartment. Once you did, you worked him through it as carefully as possibly, kicking the door closed behind you with your foot. It slammed hard and you winced at the sound, quickly checking Bucky's features, but he hardly seemed to notice anything at all. Instead he allowed you to move him around the space, dropping him on the couch, where he continued to stare into oblivion as he wrapped his shaking limbs around himself.

Wiping the sweat from your forehead, you dropped your coat and bag on the coffee table before kneeling in front of Bucky. The edge of the coffee table pressed into your back, but you hardly felt it.

It was warm inside, the sun had been shining its rays on your large living room windows all day. For a moment you wondered if you should help him out of his jacket, but decided it could possibly disturb him too much. It was better to get him back to the present first. Far more important as well. A little sweating wouldn't hurt him in the long haul, being startled while he was so vulnerable could.

Slowly, you reached your hands forward, placing them carefully on his and gently rubbing your thumb over them. Silently cursing yourself for never figuring out what he needed in moments like these, you could only hope that you were doing the right thing. He didn't flinch or push you away, which was something. And it strengthened your hope that what he needed was human contact.

In the months after he had returned home, after the hospital, he had hid his attacks as much as he could and then he had left, but you still could have done the research. You wished you had as you were shushing him.

Thirty minutes later you were still trying to reach him, and he was yet to acknowledge any of it. Finally you decided that perhaps you couldn't do this by yourself. You took a deep breath and moved to grab your phone, which was still in your bag that lay behind you on the table. Releasing his hands, you turned, only to feel him move as well. You froze, turning back to him and found him looking at you with wide eyes. Fear was evident on his features and he grasped for your hands, almost blindly it seemed. He didn't say a word, but he had a death grip on your wrist, keeping you in place.

"It's okay, Bucky. I'm here. I'm not leaving," you whispered, taking both his hands in yours again. Moving closer, you placed your forehead against his and took another deep breath. His was still visibly shaking, but he was trying to control his breath by timing it with yours. Aware of that fact, you took deep calm breaths, holding them a moment before releasing slowly.

"I'm not going anywhere, I promise," you repeated a little louder now.

In the blink of an eye, things changed as you were pressed against him. He wrapped his arms tightly around you and as he pushed his head in the crook of your neck, tears fell into your hair and unto your shoulders. Quickly you returned the hug, rubbing circles on his back. He held you crushingly close to him as you repeated your earlier promises of staying and you did not stop saying it until he finally calmed down.

* * *

_**A/n:**Updates might slow from this point forward since the next few chapters still need a lot of work. They aren't as easy to write as the first seven were, simply because there is so much information…Anyway, I hope you'll understand and be patient with me. I'll try not to make the wait between chapters too long though. _

_Another huge thank you to the wonderful beanstalk007 on tumblr for checking my spelling again._

**_And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!_**


	10. Chapter 10

**Flashlight**

* * *

_Chapter ten_

* * *

Leaning with your shoulder against the doorframe, a cup of tea in your hand, you stared down at the sleeping figure in your bed. There was an utter silence in the apartment, only broken by his occasional snores. It felt peaceful. You couldn't deny that the calm that hung in the air now wasn't thoroughly enjoyable. After the sleepless night you'd had, the long day at work and the messy and hectic evening, it was exactly what you needed. Glancing at the clock, you saw that it was almost eleven and you could only hope that Bucky would sleep through the night. He definitely seemed in need of a proper rest.

Once his tears had dried and the panic he felt had ebbed away, exhaustion had taken over him. His eyelids began drooping and his responses to your babbling had gotten almost nonexistent. Both of you knew it would happen. Even though he had always tried to hide the effects of a panic attack from you, now and in the past, the exhaustion was a part that was quite apparent. Especially when you live together.

Eventually you told him to lay down, take the bed. It took quite some persuading, and you also offered to drive him home if he was too uncomfortable, but in the end he accepted the offer. The idea had been that he would take a nap, after which the planned conversation would commence. It wasn't ideal, but he was still adamant to give you the answers you needed and according to him, also deserved.

When he first laid down, he appeared to be more tense than ever. You wondered if that was about you or the room that he was in. More than likely it was both. After all your bedroom had been the one that the two of you had shared for years. Despite the changes in furniture (you had thrown all of it out when you realised he would not be coming back to you), it must have been incredibly strange to him.

After some time though, sleep finally took over, pulling on his consciousness. He had settled in, gripping your pillow tightly as the stress finally - albeit slowly - left his body. He was completely worn down, the crease in his brow a tell-tale sign of that. He laid on his right side, avoiding his left and you wondered if he had ever slept with his prosthetic attached. He hadn't been willing to take it off in front of you and you had not wanted to push him on the subject. After all it was supposed to be a small nap only.

Of course, that nap had started nearly four hours ago and when he had not woken from his alarm, you had decided to let him sleep. He obviously needed it and you were not going to get the conversation you wanted to have anyway. You wanted him to be better rested for that possibly strained, awkward and most definitely tense discussion.

* * *

_He trashed around in the bed, mumbling in pain and it had woken you up with a start. Sitting up quickly you began to shake him gently, wanting to wake him from his dream. Or nightmare more likely. When shaking proved not to do the job, you proceeded to talk to him and pressed a hand to his chest. Instead of waking him, however, this only seemed to anger him. He sat up, his right arm striking instantly and hitting target. Falling to the side with a gasp, you brought a shaking hand to your stinging cheek._

_The soft sound from your mouth finally brought him out of his state and he silently stared at you and then at his hand. Tears began to fall from his eyes as the shock of what he had done set in, his fist clenching and unclenching repeatedly. Without hesitation you scooted closer, moving awkwardly through the tangle of sheets and placed a hand on his cheek. Your thumb moved to wipe away the rapidly falling tears as you sat in front of him on your knees. Placing a kiss on his forehead, you made an effort to ignore the pain in your cheek and comfort him instead. He would already feel guilt coursing through him, you did not need to add to it. He had not meant to hurt you, you were certain of that, and you wanted nothing more than to relieve him of the still growing guilt in his heart._

_"You're safe," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his torso and pulling him in close. He was rigid, tense, as a choked sob left his throat._

_"Are you?" He asked in a small voice and the tone of it broke your heart. The guilt was already taking a hold on him, pulling him down. You pulled him even closer, ensuring him that everything was okay and that both of you were indeed safe._

_When he finally fell asleep again it was much later and he had his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. His head was on your chest, listening to your heartbeat._

* * *

Watching him sleep brought back so many memories, mostly good ones. It reminded you that he used to fall asleep to the rhythm of your heartbeat, the sound would calm him down almost instantly, and you wondered just what helped him sleep since he had left you all that time ago.

Your phone buzzed, effectively ending the reminiscing and you stepped out of the room. You worried that any sound could wake him up from his seemingly peaceful slumber and that was the last thing you wanted. When you entered the living room you finally took the phone from your back pocket and unlocked the screen.

'Everything okay?' The text from Sam read and you smiled.

As soon as Bucky had fallen asleep, you had called Sam. In your opinion, he was the obvious choice to call for advice, since he had started working for the department of veterans affairs six months ago. At the time he had been less than happy in the job that Steve has gotten him when he had first moved to town. Instead he now counselled other veterans and it was a match made in heaven. Though you called him to ask for help, you mostly wanted him to tell you that you had done right by Bucky. You needed to know if there was anything that you had done wrong or what you could do better.

Sam had spent the better part of your thirty minute conversation soothing your fears, before telling you that only Bucky could tell you exactly what he needed. Though, he assured you, you must have done well. After all, Bucky had lowered his barriers when he had hugged you close, allowing you to see his grief and his fears. And again when he had agreed to some shuteye. Both of which showed that he was willing to be vulnerable with you. If anything got to you, it was that. At least he still trusted you to have his back. And you would not disappoint.

When the heavy dread that filled your heart finally settled a little, Sam had offered to come over but you had declined. Grateful as you were for his help and never-ending kindness, you decided that it might be better if you were the only one around when Bucky woke up from his 'nap'. The last thing you wanted was for Bucky to feel ambushed when he opened his eyes, whenever that would be. He wouldn't be expecting there to be anyone other than you and it felt wrong to push someone into his personal space so close to an attack. Sam agreed, but only after you promised to call him if you needed anything at all.

* * *

Sleep was hard to come by on the couch, the springs inside the cushions a little too hard to get comfortable, but it did not bother you too much. You were far too worried about Bucky to get much rest anyway. Instead you got up early, giving up on trying and made yourself some tea. You glanced at the screen of your phone, five o'clock again. You watched the first rays of sunlight reaching the window and leaned against the kitchen counter with s soft sigh. At least you got to watch the sun rise above the buildings, it really was a beautiful sight.

A grunt coming from the bedroom shocked you, nearly prompting you to drop the mug in your hand. Immediately, you tensed and moved towards the origin of the sound. The door was ajar and you pushed it open fully, glancing inside. Nothing seemed out of place upon the first look and yet… Bucky's breathing was still calm enough as he laid on his back, the bed a mess underneath him.  
Still, instinct told you that something had changed. There was a clear shift in the air and your shoulders tensed even more, even though you couldn't figure out what happened.

Another grunt made you look back at his face and you noticed some irregularities in his breathing now. His arm was twitching as his hand grasped at the sheets underneath it, his legs moving restlessly. Your pillow was no longer in his grip, instead it lay at the foot of the bed, clearly tossed away. Stepping around the bed quietly, you moved closer to him and placed a hand on his cheek. The move so familiar, your go-to move whenever he had been restless as a teenager and later as a soldier.

"Bucky, wake up," you said loud, your voice stern. More so than you had intended. His movements intensified momentarily, his fist that had been gripping the sheets now pulling at them, while his legs began to fight the blankets that limited his moments as they were pulled tighter in the tangle his sleeping self had created.

"Wake up, Bucky! Please, open those eyes, you're safe here," you spoke again, your tone much softer now and more gentle. The hand you had placed on his cheek earlier now gently caressing him, hoping that it would ground him back into reality. He startled you by sitting up abruptly, stalling the flailing movements in his restless limbs.

However, just when you thought it meant that he was waking up, a scream erupted from his throat. The sound filled with pain and fear. It made tears spring to your eyes. You moved from your squatting stance next to the bed, sitting on the edge of it instead and pulled him into a hug once again. You could only hope it would have the same effect on him as it had last night. With your mouth close to his ear, you repeated that he was safe over and over again, your voice a mere whisper now.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," Bucky choked out and you wrapped your arms even tighter around him, placing a kiss on his cheek. He wasn't pushing you away, though he did not hug you back either. Still you were reluctant to let go.

"For what?" You wondered confused, pulling back slightly to look at him.

"This, all of it," he whispered, struggling to get the words out and unable to meet your eyes. Shushing him, you rocked him back and forth in your arms, telling him that everything was okay.

A big part of you wanted to comfort him, ignore the meaning behind his words, but you knew that wouldn't help either of you. At some point it would need to be addressed, as did many other things. There was so much baggage between the two of you and if he stayed, which you hoped he would, it would need to be resolved. At least if you wanted to keep the awkwardness in your group of friends to a minimum, something you were certain both of you wanted.

Upon hearing your own stomach growl you realised that he must need some sustenance as well and send him to the bathroom to freshen up, while you went to the kitchen to make some breakfast. And as you busied yourself, you waited impatiently for him to come join you, so you could address the words he had spoken.

"What did you mean exactly?" You asked, needing the clarification.

Bucky stared at his plate, chewing the small bite that he had taken for a suspiciously long time. You knew you shouldn't push him too much, but his evasion tactics were laugh inducing. They always had been, especially when you were younger. Still, you swallowed the sound and waited for him to talk, he couldn't avoid it forever.

"For being who I am," he whispered once he swallowed his food. He hadn't asked you to be more specific, he had obviously known what you meant.

"And what is that exactly?" You pressed gently, your voice soft and your face as blank as you could manage. You knew you had to tread lightly here, even though everything inside you was screaming to push him for answers.

"Broken, weak."

His answer shocked you, even though you should have seen it coming.

"What?" You exclaimed a little too loudly as anger took over you. He winced and you regretted your outburst immediately. Here he was opening up and you nearly cut it short again. You weren't even angry at him, just at the situation. That this was how he felt this way, shocked and confused you. Of all the things he was, those words certainly didn't seem to fit in your opinion.

Had the war damaged him? Surely, but it hadn't broken him. After all he was still fighting, that told you that he wasn't giving up. Broken people didn't do that, right? Certainly not weak people.

"Sorry for that," you offered with a deep breath to steady yourself, "But Bucky, you have to know, the last thing you are is weak."

It was mind boggling to you that he could not see what you saw. He was so strong and brave. Far from perfect too, but that didn't matter now. Of course, he should not have ran away, but he came back and seemed willing to face the problems he had left behind or created. That was something. Perhaps it meant that he was finally ready to work on the things that were holding him back, the things that had made him run in the first place. Now you just needed to show him that he's not a lost cause, that you and your friends are still there for him.

Bucky scoffed at your words, turning his eyes away from you. You sighed, wondering how you would be able to get through to him. There was so much that you wanted to ask him, talk to him about. But he clearly wasn't ready and you wondered if and when he would be.

"Buck, I'm serious," you tried, moving closer and placing a hand over his own, "I get that you don't feel it right now, but you are strong."

He wouldn't look at you, staring at your joined hands instead. You had to force yourself not to hug him close again. You couldn't be sure he wanted you too.

"After everything, all you've been through…" you stopped talking for a moment, unsure how to shake the sentence you wanted to share with him, "You're surviving. That takes strength. Don't tell yourself that it doesn't and definitely don't give it up. Let me help you. Let us all help you."

"Why would any of you do that?" His voice broke as he uttered those words and your eyes were burning again, tears threatening to spill.

"Because we care"

"But I left"

"I know, I was there." You scoffed, a stabbing pain shooting through you at the reminder of his departure, "Look Bucky, I'm not saying it'll be smooth sailing, but we care, all of us. And we worry. That doesn't change just because you pushed us away,"

A tear slipped from your eyes as Bucky still avoided looking at you. You choked out an exasperated laugh and squeezed his hand gently. At some point he would just have to accept that you weren't going anywhere. Neither were the rest of his friends. You just wished this realisation would hit him sooner rather than later.

* * *

**A/N**:_As i've mentioned before, the next few chapters still need a lot of work. At the same time my health has taken a bit of turn, which takes up a lot of my energy. This means I can't make any promises of when the next chapter will be out, but I will try to update once a week.  
_

Another huge thank you to the wonderful beanstalk007 for helping me with this story!

And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!


	11. Chapter 11

**Flashlight**

* * *

_Chapter eleven_

* * *

"Why did you come back?" The question slipped from your mouth before you could stop yourself. Though the question had been burning on your tongue for quite some time now, asking it so bluntly had not been the plan. Shocked by your own actions, you inhaled sharply and looked expectantly up at Bucky.

You had wanted to ask him why he had left, that had been the original plan. Instead you screwed up and you were unable to squash down the grimace that made its way onto your face. Would he be angry? Would he walk away from the conversation all together? Could you blame him if he did? Honestly, no. Then again, he wasn't you. He had always been better adapt to withstand confrontation. Still, you feared that you had put a stop to his willingness to answer your questions and that you had shut him down just when he was finally ready to open up.

The fear grew rapidly in your stomach, making you nauseous. Heat rose to your face and you wondered if it had suddenly gotten hotter in the room. Pulling at the collar of your shirt, you hoped that the colour on your cheeks wasn't as obvious as it felt and wondered if the ground would perhaps be willing to swallow you whole. Especially when his eyes grew wide as saucers while he stared at you.

Too busy trying to brace yourself for his reaction, you didn't notice the change in Bucky's demeanour. His shoulders began to shake slightly, quietly for a moment, and suddenly a loud barking laughter left his mouth. Surprise took over your features and Bucky stilled again, raising an eyebrow to accompany his grin.

He took a deep breath to calm himself again while he seemed to ponder your question. It made you wonder if he was willing to answer. His laughter had shaken you and you wondered just what you could expect, especially when the following silence dragged on. What was minutes felt like hours and it took a lot of willpower to keep sitting still. You were just about to talk again, to fill the uncomfortable silence, when he finally decided to open his mouth.

Bucky cleared his throat and took a deep breath before words finally flowed out.

"I would've come back sooner," another deep breath, "I wanted too."

"Why didn't you?" You asked, silently cursing yourself for interrupting him.

"Thought you all hated me," he muttered softly, looking down at the hand that lay still on his lap. He fell silent for a moment, seemingly struggling with what he wanted to say. Or perhaps what he didn't want to say, you thought to yourself.

"I didn't think you'd want me back here," he confessed with a shrug, his flesh hand scratched at his neck sheepishly and a flush appeared on his cheeks.

Your shoulders slumped as he talked. You wanted answers from him so badly, but you didn't seem to be able to squash that feeling of needing to reassure him. A part of you hated yourself for this constant need to make others happy, to always put others before yourself. Because right now, you were angry. You had been angry at Bucky. And you had a right to be. You'd have to choose yourself over him at some point, but it was hard not to consider his feelings.

In the back of your mind, your mothers voice rang clear; you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Giving your head a slight shake to clear it, you decided to adhere to her words. There was no need for hostility. He was ready to answer you and perhaps you could still soothe some of his fears in the process. In some way, you could hopefully both get what you needed.

"I was hurt Buck, heartbroken even. But I didn't hate you. I don't think anyone did. We just didn't understand," you finally offered him in a soft tone and he smiled grateful in response. He took another deep breath and again you wondered just what went through that mind of his.

"When I got the announcement through my mom, I figured I should at least contact Clint," Bucky began talking again.

You wondered if there had been no contact with Clint and for how long that had been. When Bucky had first left, you knew the boys had kept in touch. You had simply assumed that this continued throughout the months and years. Perhaps this wasn't true.

You had never asked any of them and none of them offered the information. Instead they had tiptoed around you, worried about your wellbeing. Steve had been especially protective after Bucky had left. He had taken it upon himself to make sure you'd make it out of the dark pit you had fallen into during that time. It occurred to you now that his behaviour had been as much about you as it had been about himself. Steve and Bucky had grown up together, gone to war together, they had done everything together. Until Bucky had left suddenly and in the dead of night. You wondered how much anger and pain Steve had felt over it and more importantly why you had not asked him about it at the time.

Bucky pulled you from your train of thought when he continued to speak and you stored your questions for Steve for a moment, though vowing to yourself to come back to them later.

"I called Clint and we met up."

Your eyes widened in surprise at those words. When had that happened? Where? Bucky smiled at your reaction and paused his storytelling to explain that little tidbit of information for you.

"He was in Montana for a work a while back."

"You were living in Montana?" The shock just kept on coming. There was so much new information being thrown your way and though you did not want to derail the conversation too much, it was impossible not to react to it.

"There really is so much I have to tell you," Bucky sounded apologetic. You could only nod in agreement. There was no lie in his statement. He had uprooted his life and a lot must have changed, while you had remained the same. Your life had been still, motionless, during that same time period. It was a bitter pill to swallow, especially since your mind had wandered, created a whole life for him during these years. His life had been good, better than your, in your imagination.

"I will, I promise!" He offered and with a small nod you accepted his promise, ready to hear how he had reconnected with Clint. After all, that might offer up some information as well.

"I reached out when he came to town. I don't think I've ever been more nervous. Thought he'd throw the door in my face, but he didn't. I didn't even know what to say then, just so happy that he hadn't knocked me out,"

You smiled, Clint was a good guy. A great friend. You didn't think you would've reacted the same, after all you were notoriously bad at confrontation. The shock of seeing him would have either caused you to freeze up or slam that door in his face.

Bucky went on to tell you all about their first encounter and how it has been spent arguing. You chuckled, not entirely surprised. Clint was never one to pull punches, much like his wife. And you would only imagine how confrontational he had been with Bucky. You also knew that once he had said his bit, that would be the end of the argument for Clint. He was good at forgiving, perhaps because he had no issue voicing his problems as well. For you, things festered. Which made forgiveness hard to come by.  
You really wanted to do things differently this time. You didn't want to make Bucky think all was well, only to explode on him in a few months time. It was time to learn how to do this properly.

Bucky revealed that he and Clint had been in near constant contact since that day. Eventually Clint had even asked Bucky to be part of the bridal party, banking on their shared history instead of those last two years. Bucky still wondered if he had deserved it, but had been beyond honoured by the request.

He explained that Clint's forgiveness had spurred him to be less evasive in his contact with Steve as well. Steve had been incredibly angry with Bucky, partly about his leaving, but even more so about the lack of real contact. He had not deemed the occasional superficial call or text to be good enough. You could not help but agree with the blond, gentle giant, despite your jealousy that he had at least gotten some contact.

Eventually Bucky even dared to call Natasha, to ask her how she felt about him showing up to their wedding. He confessed that this had not been too long before arriving in town. He had been too scared that she would rebuke his attempt of atonement and had therefore put the action off until the last possible moment.  
Instead of anger, she had welcomed him. Told him that it was time to come out of hiding. She only had one condition; he needed to deal with the demons that had made him run in the first place. You chuckled, of course Nat would word it like that.

"So are you?" You wondered out loud.

"Am I?" His face scrunched up as he thought back to his last words and you could almost see it click in his mind, "Oh, dealing. Working on it, got myself a therapist," he said after you nodded. Shrugging a little self-conscious, he added, "Starting in two weeks."

"Good, that's good," you said with a smile, happy that he was ready to finally address his issues. A few moments later it dawned on you that there was a second meaning behind those words, "Does this mean you're staying?" You were scared to be hopeful and attempted to keep your feelings in check. It wasn't working very well.

"If you'll let me," he said sheepishly, "I'm really tired of running," his confession hung in the air.

You couldn't suppress a smile, your chest warming with the thought of Bucky sticking around. No matter what happened now, there would be time to work through your problems. If he stayed, perhaps some normalcy could return to your life. To his as well, probably. And maybe you could finally move on, with or without him.

"I can't promise it will be easy," you decided to tell him in all honesty.

"I don't really think it should be" he shrugged with a grin as he stared at his lap once more.

"Why? As some sort of punishment?" You scoffed, he really didn't need to be some martyr. He shrugged, not agreeing or denying, but you knew the truth in your words.

"Look Bucky, let's just get this straight. What you did was stupid. And incredibly complicated. But I don't think punishment…how is that going to help anyone?" You said with your voice as stern you could manage. He really needed to hear this, understand it.

"I ran away" he whispered.

"And proceeded to be on your own for two long years" you added a little more harshly than intended.

"Right…" he took another deep breath.

"Weren't you?" You tried to keep the tone neutral but it was impossible for Bucky to ignore the implication you were making. You knew you had betrayed your true question in the tone. Had he found someone else? You hoped his answer would be no, even if it also hurt you to think that he really had been completely alone.

"My mom didn't even visit me," his answer felt evasive to you, but you still didn't press the subject any further. Did you even really want to know?

"Well, at least she knew where you were," you countered accusingly. You hadn't meant to use that tone, but it stung. Hearing all he had to say in this moment was good, but it also brought back all the pain and uncertainty that you had felt. You never knew where he was, if he was okay, if he had moved on. At first you had asked his mom, but after a while it felt wrong to put her in the middle. It was up to him to inform you.

"I"m so sorry! You didn't deserve any of this" Bucky surged forwards and grabbed a hold of your hand. The touch sent a shock of electricity through you and you pulled your hand back.

"I really didn't," you sighed, checking the time and deciding that this was enough for one evening, "Look, why don't we call it a night for now. We'll talk soon, okay?"

"I'm really sorry for hurting you, for still hurting you!" Bucky exclaimed as you got up from the couch and he moved in sync with you. He stood close to you and it rattled you a little. You were ready for this conversation to end, at least for now your nerves were frayed and you needed him understand that you were hurt, angry. Having him this close nearly broke that resolve.

"I know" you offered a weak smile, taking a step back from him.

"I'm not sure how to fix it" he offered, his voice softer now.

"Stay, fight and we might just get there" you offered with another weak smile and he nodded before bidding you goodbye.

When he was gone you turned and walked straight to the bedroom, dropping down on the bed and screaming into a pillow.

Sleep was hard to come by that night, your mind swirling with all the new information and the feelings that it had stirred in you. You were glad he planned to stick around, but it also made you realise just how many emotions you had pushed down over the years. You knew very well that all of those would come out eventually.

* * *

_**A/N:**I am sorry for the delay since the last chapter. Due to poor health I had a hard time focussing my attention on writing. I hope you can forgive me. _  
_The health problems are ongoing, but I seem to be able to focus a bit better right now. _


	12. Chapter 12

**Flashlight**

* * *

_Chapter twelve_

* * *

_Yeahhhh new chapter. Again sorry for the wait. Not sure where time went this time. _  
_As always the wonderful beanstalk007 helped me with this (and all) chapters, and I am so grateful. _

_Feedback is greatly appreciated! _

* * *

"Guys, guys!" Steve's voice boomed over the rest, "Lets just pick something and get started," he finally had it with all the bickering and intervened as only he would. He never did like to see his friends argue, even if it was as light-hearted as this and you could not help the smile that formed on your face. Steve looked exasperated when Sam rolled his eyes and mocked him, while Natasha took advantage of the distraction and hid the phone from Sam. Neither one gave any thought to the number of cellphones in the room. Instead he began to tickle her, trying to get the hiding place from her. She shrieked and called for Wanda to help her, who jumped up on Sam's back, pulling his hands away from Natasha. Everyone was laughing, while Maria calmly walked by them and took the phone from its hiding place behind the couch, causing the other culprits to stop their actions. Maria smiled a little too sweetly as she began to dial a number from memory. Now Clint jumped up, knowing full well what she would order and disagreeing with her choice loudly.

"Guys, come on, stop," Steve tried again, though he had trouble keeping down the chuckle that was threatening to escape his lips at the sight before him. Clint stood, jumping like a toddler having a fit, Natasha lay on the ground with both Sam and Wanda on top of her, Wanda still trying to pry Sam's hands away from Nat's sides and Maria stood calmly in the middle of it all with a smile on her face.  
It didn't matter how old everyone got, as long as nights like these would keep happening, you thought to yourself.

"Aye, Aye, Captain," Wanda said as she reluctantly gave in to his pleas and stood up, her hand raised in mock salute. Chuckles resounded all around, not even Steve held back now and Bucky's warm laughter rang out from behind you. You really did love these idiots.

"Wait, that has a ring to it," Wanda exclaimed soon after, "Please tell me you made it to the rank of Captain"

"As if he wouldn't have boasted about that if he had," Sam countered and again everyone laughed. Steve got a little blush on his cheeks, picked up one of the pillows and threw it straight into Sam's face. Since he was just getting up, he lost his balance and fell back on Nat who protested loudly at the weight that was suddenly on her. You patted Steve's shoulders as laughter bubbled up and out of your throat.

"I vote pizza" you finally said, taking pity on Steve and the teasing he had opened himself up for tonight. He had mentioned he was tired and hungry, which explained his responses so well. Steve looked up at you gratefully and leaned back into the couch he was on.

"Of course!" Clint exclaimed, rolling his eyes, "You always choose pizza."

He wasn't wrong of course and you just shrugged with a huge grin on your face. Pizza was always, without fail, your go-to option for take out. Not only did it taste good, it was also easy to order for larger groups since you could easily adjust the toppings. That was a win-win right? Oh, who were you kidding, even if it wasn't the easier option you'd still pick it every single time. It would, however, probably prohibit you from winning the take-out arguments as often as you did if it wasn't considered an easy option by the others as well.

"It's heaven, dude" you joked and Clint pushed you with a chuckle, causing you to slip off the armrest of the couch. You landed hard on your bum. And everyone burst out laughing. Even Bucky, who had been rather quiet up until that point. He held out a hand to help you up and you quickly took up his offer.

As soon as you stood up, you pretended to be angry but it only lasted for about a second. You couldn't help but laugh even though you could practically feel a bruise forming on your bottom. Soon, you were laughing loudly, swallowing a whine about the sore spot.

* * *

_Teasing Clint was never a good plan. He was far more witty and wicked than you ever were. And a lot faster too. Laughing loudly, you sprinted away from him through the school courtyard and around the corner of the large high school. Of course he knew the place as good as you and there was no safety in the shadows. His fast paced footsteps came rapidly close and you suppressed a giggle, trying to remain silent as you hid behind a large bush._

_Unfortunately, spring wasn't in full swing just yet and the greenery wasn't as full as it would be in a few weeks time, making your blue coat easy to spot by your friend. You tried to get away from him again, but the heavy rainfall from earlier that week had made the ground soft and slippery. Because of this, your feet had sunken into the soil and you slipped, falling hard on your ass with a loud shriek._

_Clint was out of breath from running and his laughter was nearly soundless as he doubled over next to you, holding his stomach. Your shriek had alerted the rest of your group and soon they surrounded you, all of them laughing at your muddied appearance._

_You whined pathetically about your ruined clothes and complained of a painful backside. Bucky winked as he stepped forward, his hands outstretched, promising to fix it for you. You laughed loudly as he wrapped his arms around you, placing his hands firmly on your bum and moving his head down to place a kiss on your lips._

* * *

You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat at the happy memory as you carefully sat back down on the armrest of the couch. Forcing a smile back on your face, you remained silent as Natasha made the group pick between pizza or Chinese food.  
After that, the calm finally returned and when the food arrived a short while later, Clint pressed play on the video that one of their cousins had made during the wedding. After all, that was the entire plan behind this little get together. A plan which had only temporarily been sidetracked by the long discussion of what to order. Those very discussions were the reason that Natasha usually opted to cook for everyone and you were certain that she was already regretting her choice not to do so this evening.

You glanced sideways at Bucky, wondering if he had been drawn down memory lane lately. Since you heard he was coming back, it had been a rather frequent occurrence and it was turning somewhat inconvenient by now. The memories in and on itself weren't too bad, but having them flash in front of your eyes while you were around others was slightly annoying. It was hard to fake your happiness when a much happier past was forcing itself onto your mind's eye.

Steve seemed to sense your changing, souring mood and gently squeezed your knee, before pulling you into a side hug. This caused you to fall into his lap awkwardly and you both laughed loudly. You hugged him back tightly, before moving off the couch to sit in front of it. It seemed a safer option while you devoured the pizza that Natasha tossed on a plate for you. With your clumsiness, you might've fallen again and wasted your dinner. Now that would be an absolute shame. Food should never be wasted in your opinion. Especially food that tasted as good as this pizza did.

The ceremony had you in tears again as it played out on the screen; you still felt the love that the couple displayed during it. And it was filling the air again in this living room, with Natasha sitting incredibly close to Clint as he whispered in her ear, she blushed at his words and half-heartedly punched his shoulder, making him laugh. You regarded the scene with a smile and when Wanda caught your eye, you winked and she scrunched up her face in adoration in return. The married couple was simply too cute.

By the time that the screen showed fragments of the party, the atmosphere changed back to teasing again when Sam stood up and made everyone agree that he was easily the best dancer of the group. Everyone laughed and both Clint and Steve fought him over the title, while Maria sarcastically told Sam that he sure was. Her boyfriend decided to ignore her tone to fit his narrative and smiled radiantly at her. Wanda, Natasha and Maria then huddled together on the couch and told the men to hold a competition right then and there.

You ignored the entire discussion altogether though, because on the screen you could now see your dance with Bucky unfold. It took your breath away as you watched it, almost as much as it had during the actual dance. Carefully you glanced to the side again, hoping to catch Bucky's reaction to the wedding video, but he wasn't sitting in the chair anymore. Slightly confused you glanced around the room. When had he left? Maria caught your eye and nodded her head in the direction of the balcony. You placed your empty plate on the table and got up off the floor, walking in the direction Maria had nodded towards.

The balcony door was open and through it you could see him standing in the darkness of the evening sky, lit only by the street lights from below. He appeared to be staring blindly into the slowly darkening city. He seemed to be a million miles away, not even noticing as you came closer.

"Hey," you said softly, not wanting to break the stillness that seemed to linger out on the balcony, "What are you doing out here?"

"Thinking," he replied with a small shrug, not looking away from the skyline before him.

"Oh good," you chuckled, "'cause you don't do that enough already," you finished with a smile and he finally turned to face you, his face contorted in confusion.

"What do you mean?" He wondered, a smile playing on his lips. He looked so beautiful in the fading orange light of the sun that had nearly set completely, and you took a moment to take in the sight. He'd gone to the barber, his untamed long locks gone to make way for a shorter cut and his bread reduced to a five o'clock shadow. He looked really good and you could feel your heart skipping a beat. What you wouldn't give to lean against him now and hug him close.

"You tend to overthink things, love," you offered instead, moving closer to the railing beside him and leaning against it. He chuckled at your words, not even trying to deny them.

"How have you been?" You wondered, you haven't seen or talked to him since your conversation over a week ago. You needed some time after that, despite the fact that you didn't even get to the nitty gritty of your problems yet. There was just so much pain between the two of you, that it simply couldn't be addressed in one single conversation.

"Had my first meeting yesterday," Bucky confessed a little uneasy, not looking at you.

"Oh, what was it like?" You really couldn't imagine what it must have been like for him to even begin to unravel all the things he had been suppressing. Not only had you never gone to therapy, but you had never personally had such difficult circumstances in your life either.

He shrugged, staring at his feet. His hands had been shoved deep into his pockets as soon as you had joined him on the balcony. He took his flesh hand out now to comb his fingers through his hair and scratch at his neck. It was hard to realise just how self-conscious his prosthetic still made him. Earlier that evening you'd had some small hope that it was getting better, when he had laid it gingerly in his lap, even though most of his hands had been covered by the sleeves of his sweater.

"It was…hard," he finally confessed in a mere whisper.

"I'm sorry, Buck," you said, wishing that there was something to make this easier for him, for everyone really. If only you could jump through time and leave the hard parts behind you and just get to the easier part.

"She made me recount my entire medical history, my time in the army, they even touched on my childhood," he elaborated carefully, as if his words could scare you off now.

"That's a lot," you weren't sure what to say to that, "Anything surprise you?"

"No, not really. I've had a good life. Until…" he couldn't finish the sentence and you didn't press him. You knew what he meant and knew that there would be a day where he would be able to speak of it. Until then, you didn't need to rush or pressure him. He took the first step to healing. All that was left now was to give him time.

Silence hung between you for a few minutes. Bucky clearly wasn't ready to tell you more, though you had been surprised by his openness so far. You accepted his boundaries and decided to try and get him back inside with the rest of the group. If only to get him out of the funk he seemed to be in.

"Why don't you come back inside?" You reached out a hand for him to take, hoping it would appear as kind to him as it was intended.

"Nah, I'm just gonna go home," he answered after a short silence, then quickly offered you a smile. You realised he was trying to soften his words with that smile and to show him that there were no hurt feelings here, you smiled back.

"Just so you know," you began as you moved back through the door leading inside, "it is really good to have you back." You smiled again, turned around and left him behind on the balcony while you joined the rest of the group in the living room.

Sitting down in the chair that Bucky had vacated earlier, Wanda quickly sat down on the armrest, leaning against you. You smiled brightly at her and she hugged you close. Not long after, Bucky came inside as well, bidding everyone goodbye. Clint walked him out and Sam decided that it was too early for the night to be over. He tried to convince everyone to go out, unfortunately, at least half of the occupants in the room deadpanned him and he agreed to a movie night instead.

All too soon, another discussion broke out between Steve and Sam, one that Maria broke off by informing them that tonight was all about Natasha and Clint. Steve and Sam mentioned that they'd had their day, but it was on deaf ears. They were the minority in this conversation. Of course, Nat and Clint couldn't agree either and you just laughed as you watched them both trying to convince the other by promising favours. Finally, Clint gave in and a movie was chosen while you helped Natasha with snacks and drinks for everyone.

By the time you had settled into a seat and the movie had begun, your phone buzzed. Lazily you leaned forward to grab it from the table, without knocking Natasha over the head with it. She had picked a spot on the floor, right in front of you and she was painting your toenails as the movie played.

'Glad to be back'

Four words, it was all the message entailed, but it caused a huge grin to flash over your features. It wasn't much, but it was a definite start. It felt good and you decided to enjoy the moment for as long as you could. Ignoring the enquiring looks, you locked your phone and continued to watch the movie with the smile fixed on your face.


	13. Chapter 13

**Flashlight**

* * *

_Chapter thirteen_

* * *

Nerves were coursing through your body as you knocked on the door before you. Clenching and unclenching your fists, you tried to keep them from shaking too much. The nervousness surprised you and made you take a deep breath in order to calm yourself. You wondered why this was so difficult, there was nothing to it really. All you were doing was returning something he had lost. He'd be happy with that, wouldn't he? After all it was a family heirloom. He'd be missing it.

It had been three days since you all came together to watch the wedding video. Three days since you had been trying to come up with a reason to visit Bucky. And finally, Natasha had come to the rescue, offering up a wonderful chance. During the clean up the day after, she had come across Bucky's watch, the one his grandfather had gifted him at his high school graduation. And she had not been able to bring it by yet. Hopefully, he would be too happy with the return of his watch, that he wouldn't wonder how you came in possession of it. Then again, there really wasn't anything strange about Natasha asking you. It just felt weird because you had been searching for a reason.

And yet, as soon as he opened the door, you began to babble. Non-stop.

Soon after your initial knock, the door had opened to reveal a slightly dishevelled Bucky. Immediately you worried that perhaps he had not been alone and you were interrupting. Which had set in motion the mind less rambling, fuelled by the worry that he had in fact moved on from you. Quick to apologise, you turned to walk away again, the watch completely forgotten on the bottom of your bag.

"You're not interrupting anything," his voice halted your hasty retreat, his words pulling you back from the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions you had so easily fallen into. Turning back, you realised Bucky had taken a few steps into the hallway, as if to follow you. He seemed utterly confused by your reaction and you could feel your cheeks colouring with the rush of blood. You offered a pointed look and waved at his messy appearance and he chuckled as he looked down to his half buttoned shirt. Running a hand through his locks he looked back at you with a shrug.

"Right," he said with a smile on his face, "I've been packing and I was looking for something," he explained and waved his arm in the direction of his room, now visible through the open door. Compared to the state of his room, Bucky looked rather put together.

"Shit," you exclaimed and began rummaging through your bag, "That's why I'm here." You pulled out the watch and held it out to him, mentally slapping yourself for almost forgetting the entire reason you had come by.

"Are you leaving?" You asked, nervously gnawing on your bottom lip, as he happily took the timepiece from your outstretched hand. He shook his head and invited you inside for some tea.

Putting on the kettle, Bucky explained that he had received a call the day before from Wanda's brother, Pietro. Through Wanda, Pietro had heard that Bucky was looking for a more permanent place to stay, just as his roommate got engaged and was moving out. Sipping your tea, you listened intently, finally able to relax again and silence the worry in your head.

"Need a hand with the moving?" You finally asked as he finished his explanation.

"Thanks, but I'm sure I can manage the two cases I own," he chuckled and you smiled, realising that he obviously thought you had thrown all his stuff out after he left. It was probably time to inform him that you hadn't. Wondering just how that slipped your mind before.

"True, but maybe it would be good to have help with everything that's in storage," you countered, smiling again when he regarded you with confusion written all over his face.

"I kept hoping you'd come back," You confessed with a blush, "Though, truth be told, I am not responsible for all that's in it." You explained, while rummaging through your bag once more and getting a key out. Handing it to him, you gave him the address to the storage unit.

"Who else is responsible?" He wondered and you explained that when his parents had sold their house, his mother had added boxes to it. You could only imagine the wonderful things that had still been at their home by that point. His childhood bed, his old posters and who knew what else. Winnifred Barnes wasn't one to throw things out and you hadn't had the heart to do it for her.

"So I might finally get my action man back," Bucky joked.

"I think that might not have been in your house to begin with," his joke had prompted your confession and he barked out a laugh that you could only match. So many fights had been fought over that doll when the two of you had been kids. Many threats that neither one would play with the other ever again had been spoken, only to be forgotten the following day.

"So you did steal it!" Bucky accused, laughter still clear in his voice.

"Barbie needed a man," you defended your six year old self with a bright smile.

"You had Ken!" Bucky exclaimed, trying to keep a serious face and failing miserably.

"Ken wasn't as cool" you shrugged simply and Bucky just shook his head as he placed his now empty mug back on the desk next to him. He sat down next to you on the bed and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him.

"God, I've missed you," he whispered and kissed your temple. Words evaded you right then and all you could do was lean in to him and hum in agreement. It felt so good to have him back in your life. After all he had been your friend years before he was ever your boyfriend.

* * *

Two days later, you and Bucky made your way to the storage unit, ready to search through the boxes to figure out which he would want to bring to his new place. To the best of your recollection, there had been about 15 boxes in there, but his mother also had a key and as soon as the door opened it was clear she had made good use of that. Shocked, the two of you looked at the racks that lined the walls and were full of boxes, while the stacks on the floor completely hid the cement look that it had. With just one look, you decided this was not a two man job.

Pulling out your phone, you quickly opened the group app that Bucky had recently been added to again and sent out an sos to the rest. In it, you quickly explained the situation and added a picture of the storage unit to fill in the blanks and convince them of your plight. You already knew Wanda was out of town for a family weekend, and this last minute it would only be logical that others had plans as well. Still, you took a chance to ask.

Maria and Sam quickly replied that they too were out and unable to be back in time, though they were happy to help moving him in the following weekend. And not even thirty minutes later Steve, Natasha and Clint pulled up in the parking lot, laughing loudly at the sight before them. Bucky was lazily searching through a box filled with his childhood toys, happily rediscovering it all. While you stood next to him, slightly exasperated and wondering just how you would get through all these boxes in a timely fashion.

"Okay," Steve began as the laughter subsided, "Three different stacks; one to bring back home, one to throw away and one stack for things you want to keep here," true to his nature, Steve formed a clear plan for everyone to follow.

"Sure, but how do we make those decisions?" You wondered out loud, giving Bucky a pointed look. If he took as long with every single box as he had with the first one, the day would not be long enough.

"I'll help him sort through everything," Natasha offered and you smiled, knowing you could trust Nat to speed up the process exponentially. Natasha never had any qualms about throwing things out. She was always rather practical about it. Which was why the apartment she and Clint shared was always pristine. There was never any clutter.

"Steve and Y/n will get you the boxes, sort them by whatever is in them and I'll help until there is a load to take to the trash," Clint joined in and with the agreement of everyone, the three of you set out to make the first stacks. Soon the space was filled with talking, laughter and banter, teasing and reminiscing.

At some point Natasha had asked Bucky how he was paying for everything and he explained that he had been living on his savings the past few weeks, but thanks to Sam, he would soon begin a new job. The job was at the veteran centre that Sam worked at and would be mostly administrative, not something Bucky had done before but he was perfectly okay with that. Natasha even opted that perhaps at some point in the future, Bucky could help others with his experience and Bucky blushed, telling her he wasn't ready for that just yet. They all agreed that Bucky would be a catch for the other veterans and were happy that Sam had given him a heads up about the vacancy.

Bucky went on to tell them that the interview process had been absolutely nerve-wracking. Though it had been a good experience and he didn't need to explain his trauma, or his arm. They had only asked him about his relevant past jobs and his work for the army in broad strokes. There had been zero pressure to talk about anything he didn't want to share. You were happy that he had such a positive experience. Seemed like life was looking up for him.

After a while, you began to notice that Steve repeatedly checked his watch and finally you asked him why. He was reluctant to speak, though the blush on his cheeks told you plenty already. After some light teasing from Clint, he finally confessed that he had a date that evening and would have to leave by 16.30 at the latest. Clint was quick to add that Steve would not just be going on any date, but a second date. Clint's smirk told you that he had been sitting on this piece of information for a while and had been dying to share.

"So the first one was a success then, what's her name?" You asked with a smile, genuinely happy for your friend.

"Sharon," his hand was scratching the back of his neck and his eyes trained on his feet, the small blush on his cheeks extended to his neck now. Bucky gently smacked his shoulder with a smile and both you and Natasha gushed over his reaction.

"We'll see where this goes," Steve said, trying to tone down the excitement of his friends a little. His last few dates had not been very successful and you understood his hesitation. Walking past him, you squeezed his hand and grabbed a new box, ready for the conversation to be steered away from him. Finally you called everyone back to work, since Steve only had a little more than an hour to go. This seemed to work for a moment or two, until Clint suddenly started laughing softly. You knew right then and there that his favourite pastime was about to commence. Teasing.

"Remember when he was dating Lisa?" Clint's shoulders were shaking with the contained laughter as he spoke those words.

Steve scoffed and tried to offer his friend a stern look, though the corners of his mouth were twitching. You and Natasha could not help but break out laughing as you thought back to the poor girl. Lisa had been so overwhelmed by the friendships in their group and the shared history that was between them. Instead of embracing his friends, she had become insecure. Especially Steve's relationship with other women was a sore subject for Lisa and she had quickly gotten a little petty over it. It had been years since Lisa had left their life and everyone laughed about it now, but at the time the mere mention of her name was enough to sour the mood.

"Or his little fling with Maria?" Natasha added laughing, bringing them all the way back to their high school years, when the two friends had thought there was more to their relationship. It had not been pretty.

"I was certain they'd kill each other before the year was over," Bucky chuckled, as he closed another box and Natasha placed it on the pile that Bucky would be taking with him to his new place.

As much as Maria and Steve loved each other, then and now, there was no room for two captains in one relationship. Something had to give. Luckily, they had been able to figure that out before their friendship had been damaged beyond repair.

"Or Sabine?" Clint added fuel to the fire, teasingly winking at Steve.

"Do we have to go through all of them?" Steve asked with a whine, causing everyone to laugh.

"No, we don't," Natasha said, taking pity on Steve, "We can talk about Natalia instead," she added with a wink and Steve laughed loudly, while Clint's face fell at the mention of his ex-girlfriend.

"Now, that girl was a trip," Bucky jumped in, his loud laughter joining that of the others.

Natalia had been a daredevil, ready to take everyone along on her destructive path with her. She had been impulsive and a little crazy, though there were some good memories there. At least for the group. Clint didn't remember her quite as fondly and when he tried to break it off, she had exploded on him. Apparently, three months was enough for her to bank all her future plans on him and she did not take kindly to him walking away.

"It's a wonder we didn't give up on love all together," Natasha joked, opening another box. Everyone chuckled in agreement. They sure had some wild experiences in their combined past. Although your personal dating life had always been rather consistent. Before Bucky, there had been two guys you had kissed. But other than that, it was very uneventful. Not until Bucky's accident and the subsequent break up.

"But look where we ended up," Clint finally said in a sickeningly sweet voice, walking closer to Natasha. She batted her eyes at him, pretending to swoon.

"Be still, my heart," she whispered dramatically and allowed herself to fall forward into the arms of her husband. You laughed loudly at their antics and shook your head as you climbed on an old discarded chair to reach the boxes on higher shelves.

"I just hope she's nice, Steve" Natasha added with a smile as she stood straight again and everyone jumped in to agree with her. Steve smiled thankfully and the conversation finally truly steered away from his love life. Natasha put Clint to work and he began loading the first stack of boxes that were to be thrown out, in the trunk of your car.

As you grabbed a box from the highest shelf, the chair beneath your feet wobbled and an unattractive yelp escaped you. With the box in hand, raised a little above your head, all you could do was to try and keep your balance. Naturally, if you hadn't been so scared to fall, you would have thought of putting the box down. Unfortunately that kind of thinking was lost to you.

Luckily, before worry could fully take a hold of you, two hands were placed firmly on your waist to steady you. The sudden chill on one side told you it was Bucky even before you could look down. Your stomach flipped as you glanced passed the box and looked at his smiling face, barely hearing him as he spoke; 'I got you'.

Reaching over Bucky's head, Steve took the box from your hands and now free of the weight of it you place your hands on Bucky's shoulders. Carefully, you stepped down from the still unstable chair. He didn't let go of your waist, nor did he step back and the close proximity quickly fogged up your brain.

Caught in the moment, you stared deeply into his eyes, feeling Bucky's arms shift and his hands landing in the small of your back. He kept staring at you with that beautiful smile playing on his lips, his eyes shifting from your eyes to your lips and back. Your breath hitched in your throat and your heart was hammering in your air between you was thick with tension as you licked your lips, his head was moving closer and you were certain he was going to kiss you.

And that was the exact moment a loud crash broke the electricity that had been building in the short time that his hands had been on you. Shocked, you whipped your head to the left, towards the origin of the sound and found Natasha holding a box that was missing its bottom and its content. The grimace of her face told you that she knew exactly what she had interrupted. With a sigh, you turned back to Bucky, who was still standing close. And though his eyes were still boring into yours, he had now removed his hands from your body. The magic had been broken, the moment had passed.

* * *

_**A/n:** This had been a really bad week for me health wise, but I still managed to post this AND create the first/second/third draft of the next chapter. So I guess overall it's still a win. _  
_I hope you liked this chapter!_


	14. Chapter 14

**Flashlight**

* * *

_Chapter fourteen_

* * *

After a day of back to back meetings, you were ready for the day to end. With a deep sigh you sluggishly shuffled from the office and down onto the streets, feeling dead on your feet. Your back was aching and you were silently cursing your current footwear as you walked to the nearest grocery store. This wasn't your regular store, but it was the most convenient, since you had planned on taking the subway home today to alleviate your aching body.

Naturally, a different grocery store meant that you were left searching for everything you could possibly need and you wandered the aisles fruitlessly. It didn't help either that you didn't know what you wanted to have for dinner. Nothing seemed particularly appetising in your exhausted state. All you wanted was to get home and rest.

It wasn't until you were on your third aimless loop through the small store that all your unplanned plans fell apart and a new plan quickly formed in your head, as you nearly bumped into a sulking Bucky. He stood had been standing stock still in the middle of the aisles, seemingly staring into the void, when you first saw him. You had not expected to see him here and the expression on his face stopped you instantly. The look was all too familiar, one you had seen a long time ago and it worried you.

Bucky had always been a happy and confident guy, ready to take on the world with a smile on his face. Though that side of him had been long since buried in the past. After his time in the armed services and his untimely departure from that, his behaviour had changed drastically. He had often sported the same look he had now and it was a dagger to the heart, because you were aware that he was suffering.

Despite the changes you had seen recently, thinking that he was feeling better, getting happier, the look on his face just proved you wrong. Back then, he pushed away everyone that tried to reach out to help. Although, looking back none of you had really understood what he was going through and what he needed from you. it might have been easier for him to create the distance.

"Buck? You alright?" you spoke in a soft and gentle tone, carefully placing a hand on his forearm when it appeared that he did not notice you.

He nearly jumped out of his skin at the contact, which only proved to you that he truly had been unaware of his surroundings. Upon seeing you, he was quick to apologise and he even tried to force a smile on his face.

"What's going on?" You pressed when he didn't offer any more than that. You didn't need an answer, not really, you just wanted to keep his mind in the present. To distract him as it were.

"Nothing, sorry," he muttered with a shake of his head, "Don't worry."

Him telling you not to worry caused a rather unattractive snort to pass your lips and he regarded you with a face full of confusion.

"Have you forgotten?" You began to explain, "I always worry," you joked and he offered another weak smile, one you returned.

"I just had a meeting," He said, hesitation clear in his voice, before he took a deep breath in, "I mean therapy, I just finished therapy," He shuffled his feet and avoided your gaze. You remained silent and waited for him to regain his bearings, not wanting to push his buttons.

"M'Sure that can't be easy," you offered when he finally looked you in the eye again, he responded with a nod. You weren't entirely sure what to say, but you knew there had to be something you could do.

The silence between the two of you stretched. Neither one seemed willing to move not did either of you know what words to speak, filling the atmosphere with awkward tension. you glanced around at the racks full of groceries, searching for something to break the ice that slowly clawed on both of your bodies when a light bulb suddenly lit, an idea forming in the the back of your mind. Back when you had just moved in together, whenever one of you had a bad day the other would cook a meal and you'd watch a movie. It wasn't anything fancy but spending time together without any pressure from the outside world always lifted both of your spirits.

"Why don't you come home with me and I'll cook you dinner. You can even pick out a movie to watch," you said with a small smile, hoping he would accept your outstretched hand.

What followed was another silence in which you could see Bucky hesitant to answer you. He shuffled his feet once again, looking anywhere but in your direction and it made you wonder if you still had any knowledge of who he was. If you could still turn the knobs and push the buttons that were once so familiar to you.

_'Only he can tell you what he needs.'_

Sam's words rang in your ears, making you realise that you had done all that you could do. You offered your help, reached out to him and made it clear that he could talk to you if something was bothering him. And now, it was all up to him if he would accept or decline.

"I promise that I will not ask you about the therapy, my offer is not about that," you added softly, offering a genuine smile with the hope of making his decision a little easier, "I just don't like the idea of you being alone when you're down."

The pain in your back was long forgotten as you watched him debate the matter inwardly, before finally agreeing. A bright smile formed on your lips as you looked at him. Perhaps your instincts weren't all that bad after all, you thought to yourself as you began walking down the aisle with him.

When you asked him what he would like for dinner, he shyly asked if you were willing to make him your famous lasagne. Smiling, you nodded in agreement, linked your arms through his and with a new spring in your step you collected the ingredients you needed for the requested dish.

Bucky barely spoke as you collected all the things you needed, but you noticed the distant look in his eyes was slowly disappearing. This dinner wasn't some magic solution, you knew that, but you had at least gotten him to stop his overthinking ways for a little while. You knew he'd talk eventually, and you would wait until he was ready. Which happened to be by the time that dinner was finally on the table. He managed to initiate some small talk and give out a smile or two.

You had him laughing by the time he stood up and made his way to your front door at the end of the night. You were grateful to hear the boisterous sound. You noted that his shoulders were no longer slumped in defeat and his steps were light, as if bearing no weight at all. Progress.

"Thanks for tonight," he said with a genuine smile, that you returned happily.

"You're very welcome," you said and made the spontaneous decision to pull him into a hug. You tensed for a moment until you realised that he has returned the hug without hesitation. After he lightly kissed the top of your head, he pulled back and walked out of the apartment, towards the elevator.

As he moved into the elevator and out of sight, you could not help but feel a tad lighter than you had all week. Things were looking up, even if they were still far from perfect. And perhaps you could finally get your life out of the slump it has been in for the past few years.

You closed the door and made the choice to go straight to bed. Tomorrow, Bucky would be moving into his new apartment and it would be wise to rest up and get some shut-eye.

* * *

The following morning you were rushing out of the door, quickly getting into your car and driving the short distance to Pietro's place, which was now Bucky's place too.

You were late. It was well past ten by the time you had reached the street and everyone else was already busy carrying boxes up. You were feeling guilty for sleeping through your alarm and both Wanda and Sam were certain to rub it in. It took your sleep-deprived mind a few long moments of worry before you realised that they were teasing you. Apparently the really work had only started thirty minutes prior to your hasty arrival and they were still busy bringing up the first load of boxes. You chuckled and shook your head, mentally preparing yourself for the rest of the day.

Why was it that the initial feeling of haste never truly left you on the days that you overslept? You had managed to reach your destination and no problems had risen from your tardiness. So why did you feel like you had to run through the day just to catch up? You always hated being late and having to rush and you hated even more how that feeling stuck to you. It's not like it would change anything. Finally, you grabbed one of the boxes and started moving. Standing still wasn't going to help.

Walking into the apartment, you placed the box on top of another one and took a moment to take in the living space. You hadn't been here since Pietro first moved in and it had certainly underwent a bit of a transformation. The then bare walls were painted a stark white and they were covered in pictures and souvenirs of his worldly destinations were displayed on the shelves. The living room was kept neat and you wondered how long Bucky would manage to keep that up before you realised that would be Pietro's problem. It really was a beautiful, warm and cozy place.

In a corner you spotted Steve and Maria working together on assembling a dresser, making rapid progress. They were usually a team during moves. Nobody assembled furniture as quickly as they could.

Two strong, slender arms wrapped themselves around you from behind and a kiss was placed on your cheek. You chuckled and turned to give Wanda's brother a big hug. His dark curly hair was unruly and his slight stubble finished the look. Many women would love to run their hands through that head of hair. He smiled brightly and welcomed you, thanking you for your help.

Back in high school, he had simply been the annoying brother of your friend. But over the years, he had become one of your closest friends. He had been a year ahead of the rest in school and when he graduated, college had dragged him to the other side of the country. He had gotten a scholarship based on his accomplishments in track, and after getting his degree, it was track that had him travel all over the world.

It wasn't until earlier this year that he had finally decided to come home and Wanda had been absolutely ecstatic. They didn't have much family left and she was happy to have him close again. Though you had only managed to see him a handful of times since then, he seemed at least as happy to be back.

You smiled brightly as he released you, congratulating him on his new roommate, before you moved further into the apartment to find Bucky. The beautiful brunette stood in the middle of his new bedroom, amidst an already big number of boxes, looking a little lost. You chuckled upon seeing it. He looked rather cute like that. The sound that escaped your lips made him look up and he seemed relieved as he greeted you.

"You okay?" You asked with a smile.

"It's a lot of stuff," he said incredulously, earning himself another chuckle. You realised that after two years of living out of a suitcase, all these boxes could be overwhelming. You stepped further into the room carefully avoiding all the things that already covered the floor, coming up next to him and looked around.

"Let's just start with organising this lot, give things a place before we get anything else," you offered and looked into the first open box you saw, seeing that it contained books.

You reached into the box and grabbed a few books, putting them on the shelves in the bookcase that Steve and Maria must've already finished. Bucky took a deep breath and followed your lead, helping you empty the first box. While the others continued to bring more boxes and unassembled furniture up, you and Bucky wasted no time and made quick work to arrange and place everything.

Conversation was light, nothing too deep, but you were happy to see his lighter side come out again. To see him smiling brightly and doing so often, it was good. And it appeared to you that you were not the only one sensing this change. Steve definitely moved a little easier in his presence and their back and forth teasing was enough to make everyone laugh.

To speed up the process of putting everything away in their respective places, Sam decided to help in arranging the furniture. Clint crouched down with him as they worked on assembling a closet. Both of them were good at these things, but you knew just how impatient they were. While piecing together the furniture, they cursed endlessly like drunken sailors, the ones you usually see in pirate movies, rowdy and obnoxiously loud.

You smiled and turned away from the sight of the working men, instead stacking the boxes with clothes and linen against the wall where his bed would later be placed. Your mind went over all that you had already done in the last two hours and what was still left to be done. Wrapped up in your own thoughts, you turned and tripped over his discarded tripod that was laying hazardously on the floor. Fortunately, Bucky was quick enough to catch you in his arms and you laughed, shaking your head over your own clumsiness.

"Some things certainly never change," Bucky laughed with you while staring into your eyes with those beautiful blue orbs that held a twinkle in them.

His hands splayed on your back brought back memories and his close proximity made your heart skip a beat. You had your hand placed on his chest to steady yourself and with his own heartbeat thrumming underneath your fingers, you were caught up in the moment. He helped you stand up straight, but neither of you moved away and for a moment you thought of kissing him.

Of course, since the universe didn't wish for that to happen apparently, a loud curse broke the tension and you both hurried towards the doorway. From where you were standing you could clearly see Clint rolling on the floor with laughter, while Sam angrily yelled at the closet they had been working on. In his haste to finish he had slammed the hammer down on his thumb instead of the nail. With everyone laughing at the scene that unfolded before them, Wanda instructed Sam to ice his thumb before announcing that lunch would be ready in a minute.  
You took a deep breath and looked up at Bucky who kinked his head, as if to say he was surprised that another moment was interrupted. You could only return the sentiments before walking to the kitchen and washing your hands.

* * *

When you finally returned home later that day, you were absolutely exhausted. Immediately dropping down on the couch, you couldn't even bother to remove your coat. Instead you lazily reached for the remote and turned on the tv, ready to watch some mindless show that required zero thoughts from you.

At some point you must have dozed off, because you were suddenly jerked awake by loud knocking. A little dazed, you pushed yourself up and slowly moved towards the door, opening it just a crack. On the other side stood Bucky with a small, nervous smile tugging at his lips. Slightly confused, you opened the door further and invited him inside. He made no move to step over the threshold and you stood silently at the doorway, waiting for him to speak. You were far too tired at the end of this week to take the lead here.

"I…" Bucky started nervously, "I wanted to thank you," he looked down at his feet and you wondered what was making him uncomfortable. Following his gaze you were struck by the realisation that he wasn't hiding his hand and suddenly you came to the conclusion that he had not done so the entire day. Your sleep deprived mind almost made a comment about it, but you luckily caught yourself in time.

"No need," you said instead, "Happy to help."

He nodded, looking up now and staring into your eyes. There was a storm of emotions going on in those blue eyes and you tilted your head to the side, wishing you knew what could've caused it. Though you weren't given all that much time to ponder as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours.

You were shocked, confused and barely responded, which caused him to pull back. Instinctively you moved after his lips, but he took a step back and looked down again, leaving you hanging. That did nothing to help with the confusion. Your lips tingled and you felt a smile spread across your face. He had kissed you. It had been short, but good. At least, for you it had been.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have," he muttered and took another step back from you, though this time you were prepared and stopped him by grabbing the lapel of his jacket tightly in your hand.

You stepped over the threshold that separated you now and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you again. Quickly, before you lost your nerve, you kissed him back.

He quickly wrapped you in his arms and deepened the kiss. You stepped back over the threshold, pulling him gently inside of your apartment. Your hands moved from his neck to his cheek and back and breathed in his scent. His arms kept you impossibly close and he moaned into your mouth.

There was a rush of blood in your head that silenced your surroundings and you never wanted this moment to end. Your stomach was busy doing backflips and your heart was running wild inside your chest as your whole body seemed have to honed in on the moving of your lips against his. The kiss was passionate though slow, there was no rush to make it into anything more and you released just how much you had missed kissing this man.

When Bucky finally pulled back, his arms still wrapped tightly around your waist, you were thoroughly out of breath. He pressed his forehead against yours, breathing heavily, and another bright smile broke out on his face, one you could only mirror.

"I've thought about doing this all week," Bucky confessed, placing another peck on your lips.

A giggle passed your lips as you thought the length of time you had been thinking of kissing him. Which was much longer than a week. It was kind of embarrassing, so you opted out of telling him. Now was not the time to be painfully unsexy.

"I wanna do this right," Bucky whispered, his nose brushing your own "Can I please take you out on a date?"

You breathed out a throaty laugh and nodded with a smile. This was not how you imagined your week ending, but you certainly weren't objecting.

* * *

_**A/N: **I am currently working against the clock to finish this story before my upcoming stint in the hospital, but my health is working against me a little. Luckily I've got beanstalk007 to help me out! She's worked hard to make this chapter readable for you all!  
_

_Feedback is greatly appreciated!  
_


	15. Chapter 15

**Flashlight**

* * *

_Chapter fifteen_

* * *

Standing in front of your full length mirror, you re-applied your lipstick with a shaky hand. Nerves were rolling through you in waves as you took in your appearance. You hoped that the black, knee-length dress you had chosen for the evening would have the intended effect on the man that would arrive at your door in fifteen minutes. It was one of your favourites and you desperately wanted that confidence that it usually provided.

After a disastrous first date, you felt the pressure in making the second one a better experience. Still, you could not help but smile at the prospect of spending an evening with such a wonderful man.

You'd spent the better part of the day trying to draw parallels between your date last week and your very first date ever with Bucky. It hadn't been easy for they had been so vastly different from one another. The only similarity you had managed to find was that you had been extremely nervous for both. But where your date last week had a bit of a bitter aftertaste, the date you had at sixteen was nothing but wonderful.

Bucky had been on your mind and in your heart for months by the time he finally had asked you out. According to the always supportive Natasha, his feelings had been much the same, but neither one of you dared to take that first step. Luckily your friends loved to meddle, even if back then you weren't always as appreciative of that little trait of theirs. Looking back, they stood at the very beginning of your relationship with Bucky thanks to that very trait and you could not be more grateful.

* * *

_At age sixteen_

_The doorbell rang loudly throughout the house and you popped your lips, closing the lip gloss in your hands before practically running out of your room and down the stairs. Your parents were supposed to be out to dinner as well tonight and there was nobody to open the door. Keeping Bucky waiting was not on your to-do list tonight and there was no doubt in your mind that it was him ringing. And he was right on time for your very first date. Not just to each other, this was the first real date either one of you had ever had._

_Your heart was already pounding as you bounded down the steps of the stairs, though the sound did not stop you from hearing voices drift up the stairs to you. Confused, you stalled when you were halfway down and it took you a moment to realise that your parents hadn't in fact left yet and it was your father that had opened the door._

_Worry twisted inside of you and you quickly started moving again, anxious to interrupt the conversation these two men could be having. Though worry was not the expression that was evident on Bucky's face. See, your father was not the kind of man to threaten your date especially not Bucky, who he had known and liked since he was born. No, what you feared was that your father had been able to entertain his favourite activity; mercilessly embarrassing you. You ran up behind your father, smiling brightly at Bucky while simultaneously trying to push your father in the direction of the living room._

_"Thanks dad," you said, kissing his cheek and hoping he would take the hint. Looking back, you would realise that he had understood all too well. He had simply chosen to ignore your efforts._

_"So, yeah, just act like a bumper if you can. Her latest bruises are only just beginning to fade," your father continued easily, not missing a beat and his face held in a serious mask. He was having fun with this._

_You felt a blush cover your cheeks as you realised that your father had informed your date of the tumble you had taken down the stairs just a few days ago. It's not like Bucky didn't know you were clumsy. Everyone knew. You were just a little worried that he would ask for the reason why such a thing even happened._

_And you can't exactly tell him that when the phone had rung downstairs, you had rushed to pick it up because it would be Natasha. She had promised to carefully check with Bucky how he felt about you. She had been the driving force behind the step to move beyond friendship. And he was smart enough to connect the dots, that her quasi innocent questions had been for you. You didn't want to risk that._

_Unfortunately for you, you had missed a step and your mother had answered the phone instead, while your father had stood next you - doubled over in laughter. Eventually, he had offered you a hand and helped you get up, making sure that no real damage had been done to his daughter. And physically there hadn't been, but the same could not be said for your ego. Not because you fell down the stairs, that kind of thing happens quite frequently, nor had it been due to your father's laughter, again a recurring occurrence. No, the embarrassing part had been that your parents had friends over and they had been witnesses to your mishap. And your less than graceful landing on the floor beneath the stairs, with your legs pointed to the ceiling. It was all less than glamorous and it definitely didn't impress anyone._

_As you remembered, the blush on your cheeks intensified and you stood stock still for a moment. Your father laughed again, grabbing your jacket and helping you put it on. He waved you off and Bucky took your hand in his as you began walking. Your embarrassment intensified when you noticed Bucky's shoulders were shaking from restrained laughter. You smacked his arm and he cracked, laughing as his mirth was, you finally joined in and forgot about the unease you had felt._

_Soon as the laughter faded, Bucky moved in to kiss your cheek and complimented your dress, telling you how excited he had been for tonight. You smiled, feeling your confidence growing with his words. Though you were compelled to tell him honestly about your worries. Despite the fact that you really liked him, a part of you was afraid that it would cost you a friend._

_Cocky as he often was, Bucky couldn't imagine that his good feeling for this budding relationship was wrong and he promised that if it ever did end, he would still be your friend. And he would be your friend forever. You decided to trust on that promise._

_The dinner Bucky got you had been horrible, though neither one of you had really noticed, too happy to have been on a real date. Much like in the movies. You both felt so grown up that night. And the relationship that was growing between you felt very real._

_By the time he was walking you home, a chill had set in the air and being the perfect gentleman, Bucky had placed his coat on your shoulders instead. He'd held you close as you walked, saying sweet little nothings in your ears. And when you arrived at the front porch of your home, Bucky didn't hesitate when he bent down to place a sweet kiss on your lips._

_It was your very first kiss and your mind was racing as his lips moved gently against yours. Despite his outwardly confidence and the determination with which he had taken charge, his hands shook slightly as he caressed your cheek. It may not have been his first kiss, but to you there was no way it could not have been the best. Because you could hardly phantom any kiss could be better than this one._

* * *

You still smiled as you thought of the childlike optimism the two of you had possessed back then. The confidence of youth and the unbridled way you viewed life back then were wonderful and you loved that you had both felt that. Life had gotten incredibly more complicated as the years went on, and Bucky's confidence had taken the biggest hit.

Your date last week had proven that to you. When everything had gone wrong last week, he had not been able to provide a swift solution as he would have done when he was younger. It didn't matter, you were fine with taking over that role for now and hoped that he would see the return of that wonderful optimistic confidence.

* * *

_Last week_

_This time, your father hadn't been around to embarrass you. Instead you had done it all by yourself when you walked into the table that stood behind the front door. The loud bang ricocheted off the wall, followed by the grumbled curses had been heard by Bucky through the door and when you opened it, he was already laughing loudly. Some things never changed and you would probably never become graceful._

_In his hands was a beautiful bouquet of your favourite flowers and you took it with a peck to his cheek, limping back into the apartment and to the kitchen. There, you instructed Bucky to grab you the white vase from the top-left cupboard and he did so without question. He even filled it with water, before handing it to you, giving you much needed time to rub your leg. The colourful flowers looked wonderful and you happily placed them on the dinner table, repeatedly thanking Bucky for them._

_You then grabbed your coat and bag, taking the hand that Bucky held out to you and allowing him to lead you outside. The air was crisp for the time of year, though still quite comfortable as you walked down the street. With the restaurant only one block away, it was silly to take a car there._

_When Bucky's phone rang, you glanced at him in confusion, but he quickly informed you that it was the restaurant. You both continued to walk, while he spoke to the person on the other end of the line. As you rounded the corner and entered the street of the restaurant, you stopped upon seeing firetrucks along the road. It was soon obvious that you would not be having dinner at your favourite Italian restaurant._

_You looked up at Bucky's face and noticed that it had fallen. You knew that he had picked this restaurant very deliberately and it seemed that he was at a loss for what to do now. You gently squeezed his hand, rubbing your thumb over it and pulling his attention back to you. He looked bewildered and offered no other options._

_At your suggestion, the two of you made some calls to other restaurants, though you were disappointed to hear that all of them were fully booked. It wasn't all too surprising however, it being a Friday night and all. What did surprise you was that Bucky began to fidget more and more, unable to think of solutions. In the past he was usually the first to come up with at least a few._

_You took a deep breath and gently tugged at his hand, prompting him to start walking again. At an easy pace, you strolled through the streets until an idea popped up in your mind and you were eager to tell Bucky about it._  
_The blankets on sale in front of a little shop just two blocks away from your apartment was what triggered the idea. Smiling brightly, you had gone in to buy it, before wordlessly pulling Bucky towards the local supermarket where you began collecting an assortment of cold foods._

_When he finally caught on to your idea, he moved to grab a few things as well. At the check out, you noticed he had added some wonderful things to your basket that you had not considered. Not only had he some battery operated fairy lights and drinks, but he had thought to add strawberries and chocolate sauce for dessert and cups and cutlery. Romantic and practical, just like you remembered him to be._

_You smiled at his additions, impulsively kissing his cheek again and creating a slight blush on his cheeks. He insisted on paying and then took control of the date again, pulling you in the direction of the nearest park. Bucky was very determined as he guided you to a small clearing in a calm part of the park, where he created a nice little corner for you to sit. With the lights, blanket and food stalled out it was a rather romantic sight and your heart felt light as you sat down with him._

_After dinner, you worked together in cleaning everything up again and disposed of your litter in the nearest bin. When all was done, he took your hand in his again and guided you through the park again, holding you close as easy conversation flowed between you. All insecurities seemed long forgotten by both of you._

_Eventually you stopped walking and overlooked the pond, taking in the beautiful sight of the newly renovated area that was illuminated by low lighting. It seemed very different from when you had been here with Natasha a few months back._

_Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close and you breathed in his scent. Enjoying the calm that hung in the air around you. The sun was finally setting at a more rapid pace and darkness was setting in, creating a more romantic atmosphere. In the setting darkness is was easier to ignore the other pedestrians in the park. It was almost like it was just the two of you now._

_His chapped lips captured yours in a slow, confidant kiss and you slowly melted into him, your hands on his firm chest as you deepened the kiss by lightly dancing your tongue over his bottom lip. His mouth opened and the kiss became hungrier as his hands pressed you against him and yours moved into his hair. He sighed happily against your lips and you could not repress a smile. You really had missed kissing him._  
_The world around you disappeared as the kiss lasted and lasted, neither one of you aware of the time anymore._

_That was until loud screaming pulled your lips apart. Looking behind you, you could see a biker coming down the hill. He was shouting that his breaks weren't working as he tried hard to avoid the people on the path. He weaved between them, coming closer and closer in a rapid succession._

_What happened next went too fast for you to grasp, there was little time to think as the biker came closer. Bucky pushed you out of the way, just in time, but couldn't avoid a collision for himself. As he fell to the ground, you gasped quickly moving towards him. The biker was helped up by bystanders and he apologised profusely, claiming that his breaks had been working earlier._

_Bucky waved it all off, accepting his apology and simply wanting to move on from the accident. The look on his face told you that he simply didn't want the attention and you moved closer, standing between him and the bystanders, helping him up carefully._

_When people finally began moving again, you dared to ask about his pain. You snorted when he tried to convince you that there was little to no pain, the grimace on his face was clear. His hand moved to rub his shoulder and he hissed out, confirming your suspicions._

_"Want me to look at it?" You asked softly, careful not to touch his painful shoulder._

_He simply shook his head and began walking again, trying to put on a brave face. The night was well and truly over now and you tried to talk him into a visit to the emergency room. Bucky initially wasn't having it, still trying to tell you that he was fine, but when another passerby accidentally bumped into him he could not deny it any longer. He was in a lot of pain._

_Not even an hour later, he was assigned a room at the hospital as he waited for a doctor to come and assess the damage. Carefully, you helped him out of his jacket, making sure that he didn't need to move his shoulder too much._

_When the doctor arrived and told Bucky to remove his shirt, he hesitated and looked back at you. You hadn't seen his arm or the scars on his shoulder since he had first left years ago and he was only just loosening up about showing you his prosthesis. You feared it would be too much for him for you to stay behind._

_"Bucky, I know this is difficult for you. Do you want me to leave? I'm good to stay but it's your choice," you offered, hoping against all odds that he would want you to stay with him._

_Your offer was met with silence and the doctor excused himself for a moment, giving Bucky the opportunity to think it over. The doctor promised to come back in five minutes. You simply nodded at the man and held tightly onto Bucky's hand, waiting for an answer from him. You glance at his still covered shoulder and noticed that a bloodstain had formed on the fabric of his shirt. It was a dark henley, making it difficult to see at first, but now that you had it was impossible to ignore._

_"How can I help you?" You finally asked, hoping it would prompt him to answer. Helping him was all you wanted to do._

_When the doctor returned, sooner than expected, Bucky has yet to answer you and you finally moved away from him. Accepting his inability to speak as a rejection of your presence. However, before you stepped out of reach, he grasped your hand - stopping you from leaving._

_"Stay," the word was a whisper, but it resounded loudly in your head and you smiled gently as you moved to the side of the bed again._

_Together with a nurse, you helped remove his shirt carefully and kept your gaze trained on his face as the doctor got to work on his examination. The doctor prodded and stabbed at the shoulder, before he asked Bucky to remove his arm._

_Bucky took a few deep breaths, working up the courage to do so and you remained silent, not sure what to say. You hated that he had been forced into this uncomfortable situation. On a first date even. Still without another word, Bucky agreed to remove his prosthesis._

_When the doctor had a clear view of the damage, he realised that there were a few bumps and scratches on his shoulder and stump. There was only one of those wounds that needed stitching, but to allow them all to heal, the doctor told Bucky not to wear his prosthetic arm for a few days. You could clearly see the worry etched on his face at that information, so you bent down and gently kissed his lips._

_"It'll be okay," you promised softly, gently caressing his cheek. He sighed deeply before nodding and leaning his forehead against yours._

* * *

A loud knock pulled you back from your trip down memory lane and you smiled brightly as you opened the door, successfully avoiding the table that stood behind it. You were greeted by an equally brightly smiling Bucky, holding another bouquet in his hands. Holding the flowers to the side, he leaned in and placed a kiss on your lips. You sighed contently and he slipped his free hand around your waist as he held you close and deepened the kiss.

* * *

_**A/N: **As you have all been able to tell, I did not finish this story before my surgery. However, surgery went as well as could be expected and though recovdery is slow, I am getting better. It's been almost two weeks and my ability to focus on anything for more than a few minutes is coming back finally.  
I hope you'll enjoy this new chapter and I am sorry for the long wait._

_As always a massive thank you to beanstalk007 for proofreading!  
_

_Feedback is greatly appreciated! And to the people that have shown their appreciation for this story: THANK YOU! I truly appreciate it!  
_


	16. Chapter 16

**Flashlight**

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_Chapter sixteen_

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**Important note before you read this chapter:** The way that the therapist is portrayed in this chapter is not an accurate representation of the way they are supposed to work. It was instead written in a way that would serve this story better. Without it, this part of the story would drag on and I did not want that at all. Simply because you've all had to be patient enough already. This is a slow burn, but that would basically make it a full stop. I am not that mean haha. So, my choices were to speed things up a tiny bit, and though it does not depict reality, I hope you understand the necessity of it.  
_Now on with the chapter itself!_

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_'When things seem too good to be true, they usually are.'_  
Those had been the words your mother had spoken repeatedly throughout your life. Whenever something happened that got you overexcited, she'd say them in an attempt to caution you. As a child, you hated that, even if she turned out to be right most of the time. Back then, you were often so helplessly optimistic and though some of the shine had been erased with the years, optimism never truly left you. You always did look for the best in people, excused behaviour, interpreted things in the least negative way you possibly could. You could put a spin on just about anything. Of course, that wasn't necessarily a good thing, at least not all the time. Things were looking really good right now, getting you so excited for a future where things were shiny and bright. Perhaps you should've heeded your mother's words just a little bit more.

The second date that Bucky took you on was much better than the first. All pressure had simply disappeared and there was more room to relax and enjoy for the both of you. Sure, Bucky still lacked that bit of confidence that he used to have, but if his bright smile was any indication, you figured that all he needed was time.

That date had restored your sense of hope, hope for a good relationship and a happy Bucky. Even if he didn't end up with you, he'd be okay and that was a god realisation to get. Though, truth be told, you were really hoping that he'd be with you. That he still loved you as much as you loved him. The mere thought of him not picking you for the long haul was terrifying.

Those fears and insecurities were quieted when several more dates followed those first two. Soon butterflies were running wild in your belly again. A simple smile of his was enough to make your knees buckle and he seemed to understand you without a single word being uttered. Interactions were nice and comfortable. Things were good.

Of course there was still a voice in the back of your head, telling you to talk to him about all that had happened. Your problems wouldn't just magically disappear because you were re-discovering your love for one another. You still needed to talk about why he left, what kept him away and what made him push everyone out of his life. It wasn't just you that he had driven away, he had done it to his friends and family as well. And the questions that arose from that needed answers. Things needed to be explained, you knew that. It was just so much easier to avoid all the pain and drama that would follow those answers. It was easier to remain in the bubble of love that the two of you were currently in. A bubble fuelled by bright smiles and those persistent butterflies.

You should've known that life would find a way to make you face everything, make you work through them. It was impossible to ignore it all forever, no matter how hard you tried and unfortunately you found that out the hard way. Though as hard as it was on you, you were certain that it must have been even harder on Bucky.

* * *

_You were slowly awakening from your slumber, shifting your position to get more comfortable. With a content sigh, you gently padded your pillow and met a hard muscled chest. No wonder your neck was a little strained. Your eyes shot open at the realisation that you had fallen asleep on Bucky. You couldn't even remember when it happened and how far you got into the movie that the two of you had been watching. Carefully, you sat up and saw that he had been sleeping as well. The relaxed expression on his face making you smile._

_This was your third movie date since the two of you had decided to give this relationship another go and you had quickly fallen into a routine. A familiar one at that. Where he grabbed the drinks, you got the snacks and you argued needlessly over which movie to watch before finally settling on whatever Netflix recommended. As the movie played, you'd slowly moved closer to him until you were snuggled up against him. He had wrapped his arm around you tightly, holding you close to him. Eventually, your head had laid down on his chest and you had listened to his heartbeat. The slow beats relaxing your whole body and when he laughed, that deep rumble in his chest brought a smile to your face. It was intoxicating, pulling you in and hypnotising you. Especially combined with his wonderful scent washing over you._

_Bucky began to wake up as well and you sat there, watching him as different emotions crossed over his features. You smiled when his eyes opened and shot back a lazy one of his own. He stare turned more intense and your breath hitched before you leaned down to kiss him. There had been a lot of kissing these past few weeks, though most of them had been calm, lazy and they could last for hours. This one was different, it didn't hold the same calming effect and instead things got rather heated fast._

_Your hands moved through his hair and your nails lightly scratched his scalp, pulling a soft moan from his lips. His hands began to roam your body, starting on your hips and moving up your sides. A few beats later, his thumb made contact with the side of your breast and your both stopped kissing momentarily. You stared at one another intensely for a moment or two._

_Pupils had been blown out, lust taking over and nearly banning all colour from the irises. Your lips quickly captured his again and the kisses resumed even more frantic than before. You carefully moved back and laid down on the couch, pulling him with you. His body on top of yours caused a heat to course through your entire being. His hands were hungrily moving over you and your heart was hammering in your chest. By wrapping your legs around his waits, you pulled him as close as possible. Both of you were out of breath by now, but neither one seemed intend on stopping._

_A moan left your mouth as his erection pressed against your heat and he growled at the sound. His hands moved underneath your shirt and yours tracked the road to the hem of his. When his hands brushed your bra-covered mounds, you moaned and tugged at his shirt, ready to remove some of the clothing that was still separating you. When you moved to get up and off his body, however, everything came crashing down._

_Bucky jumped back suddenly, as if bitten and his face was horror stricken as he tried to catch his breath. Your mind was reeling and confusion got the best of you, slowing down any further response to his actions. Except the sudden chill that was now grabbing hold of your body._

_"I-I can't," he breathed softly, "I'm sorry."_

_He stood up fully and backed away from the couch, quickly stepping into his shoes and not even caring that they weren't on his feet properly when he hurried to the coat rack. With his jacket in his hands he practically ran for the door._

_Rejection was the overall feeling that you were left with, but you still jumped up and went after him. Managing to reach him before he made it to the staircase, you quickly wrapped him in your arms. All you wanted to do was crawl into a ball and cry yourself to sleep, but a part of you was screaming to make it all better first. To comfort him and soothe his pain, effectively ignoring your own._

_It wasn't easy to convince him to come back inside, but you did. Partly for him and partly for what you two could be. If he had left, you wondered if he'd ever come back again and you weren't ready to give up. Not by a long shot. He wasn't ready to talk, but agreed wholeheartedly that this was not how you should end the evening. He shouldn't run away now. And so you both settled on another movie, sitting stiffly on the couch and barely registering what was happening on the screen before you._

* * *

So much stood between you now, you knew that, understood that on a deeper level. Love alone was not enough, as much as you both wanted it to be. There was work to be done, so much of it that it was terrifying to you. You both needed to move past all the had happened in the past few years and the effects it was still clearly having on the both of you.

You knew he loved you, as much as you loved him. There was no doubt about that, but there was a big part of him that could not relax, that had trouble accepting himself and you had no idea how to help him. You didn't even know if all you had done so far was doing more harm than good. Neither one of you ever addressed that. Ignoring the red flags and all the damage.  
That night on the couch had highlighted just how disconnected you still were. You both just wanted this to work so badly, that it had been enough to suppress everything else. And you so desperately wanted to help him. That was why, when his therapist had invited you to sit in on a session with Bucky, you had jumped at the opportunity.

At the time, it did not even occur to you that the man could possibly have something to say that you weren't ready to hear. You never imagined that he would say what he said and that he would break your heart in a bigger way than Bucky ever could have done. But over the course of the hour, the man, Dr. Adalain, informed the two of you just how wrong it was to jump back into this relationship. He had been kind and gentle in his wording though he spoke in no uncertain terms. He was clear in his intentions.

Dr. Adalain was convinced that Bucky was making careful progress and that he needed to walk this path alone. Not to say that he could not be helped in the process, he still needed support and love, but he needed to build up his confidence. Bucky needed to believe in his own worth and possibilities. And he needed to get there without leaning on you.

The doctor also mentioned that he thought you had been far too kind to Bucky, practically cuddling him by trying to kiss away all problems. Neither one of you was making the other face the harsh truths of life, even though eventually the would need to happen. He surmised that, probably because of the love you have for him, that you worried too much. Worried about hurting him, offending him and even breaking him. It made it easier for Bucky to ignore certain issues, while simultaneously increasing his guilt. Because Bucky did have a lot of guilt, he explained.

You had taken that moment to stare at Bucky, tears streaming down your face and realised just how true this was. Yes, you had known about the guilt, to some degree. You had just never realised that your current relationship was doing nothing to deal with that. Then again, you hadn't been dealing with any of the issues that stood between you.

On Bucky's end, the doctor had explained that it wasn't helpful to place you on a pedestal. The years he had been away, he had been comparing everyone to you. And nobody had come close, as nobody could hold a candle to your kindness, grace and beauty in Bucky's opinion. It had caused him to further isolate himself.

Dr. Adalain did applaud the love that you had for one another, though he also realised that in this step of recovery it wasn't really what either of you needed. He reasoned that Bucky would first have to start seeing you as a person again, flaws and all. While you needed to stop fixing everything for him and covering his behaviour with excuses, under the veil of love.

Before Bucky's stint in the army, the two of you had been growing, evolving and you had done most of that together. At the same time, there had been plenty of time for personal growth. There had been trust that it would work out in the end, that you'd always find the other in your path. After he had lost his arm however, all that progress had stopped. Trust, in life mostly, had sunk to an all time low and neither one had dared to stray from the other. At the same time, so much had changed between the two of you that it had been hard to keep up.

Throughout the entire session, you could see the reasoning of the therapist. Though that didn't mean that you were entirely ready to accept it. You understood that you both needed to process the past few years, let go of the pain and confusion, before you could move on from it. It was just incredibly hard to accept that you could not do that together. And that realisation ripped through you like a sword.

"Perhaps you should each take some time apart, create some distance, while you work out your own process,"

The words were a rational result of all the things Dr. Adalain had spoken, and wasn't meant as some hurtful form of punishment. He wanted to give you room to grow as individuals. However, with your heart beating out of your cheat and your throat contrasting with the burn of more tears, it certainly felt like a cruel sanction.

Walking out of the office, Bucky had pulled you into his side as he tried his best to comfort you. His attempts were weak and you knew he was struggling as much as you were, though he had mastered the art of hiding his emotions from almost everyone. Still sniffing, you leaned into him as he walked you home, not a word was spoken along the way. Not until you stepped over the threshold of your apartment, did another word get uttered.

"I think we need to take some time to let this all sink in," you whispered and Bucky just nodded in agreement. You both knew that emotions were too big right now to think rationally.

And so he bent down to kiss you deeply once more, pulling you into him and holding you close for just a little while longer, before he finally walked out the door. His face, the portrait of a broken man, and you were certain your expression mirrored it.


	17. Chapter 17

**Flashlight**

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_Chapter seventeen_

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_**Important notice before reading!**  
This chapter deals with the aftermath of chapter sixteen, which means it deals with heavy feelings. On top of that another character deals with fertility issues and since that is a very sensitive subject I decided to write that into the end of this long winded chapter. You can opt to skip it. It'll be marked by # instead of my usual ways to divide scenes.  
**If in doubt, feel free to message me here or on**_** my tumblr (link in bio) **_**and I will answer any questions you might have.**_

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As the door closed behind him, you crashed down onto your knees. Tears streamed down your face and you were left gasping for breath. It felt as if you were suffocating in your pain, with your heart beating so hard that it resounded in your head. Everything felt heavy and staying upright was quickly becoming too much for your body. As if all strength and energy had gone from it.

You couldn't help but continuously think about what the therapist had said. His words, harsh though truthful, hitting you like a bullet, tearing you down and crushing your soul. The worst part of it all was that you couldn't fight the things that he had told both you and Bucky. Although it had been hard to hear, the man had simply been honest.  
There was an undeniable truth to all the reasons the therapist voiced, reasons that explained why you and Bucky would be wise to create some distance from one another. You both needed space, in order to successfully walk the path of individual growth.

You would never want to stand in the way of his healing process. He deserved, more than anyone, to get better. In your mind, he deserved it more than you as well and you realised that this too was a problem. Wanting to help others was perhaps a good quality, but it was impossible to maintain if you neglect yourself. You knew that and wondered why you had let it get that far.

You just hoped that the love between you and Bucky was strong enough to withstand even this huge hurdle. That, at the end of the road that you both had to take separately, you'd find your your way back to the other. After all, there was no denying that there was so much love between you two. You felt it, knew it without a doubt, the love you shared was all encompassing. Which was also exactly why it stood in your way.

At some point you must have gotten up off the floor and changed into your pyjamas, though you had no conscious memory of it. You dropped down on your bed, sleep already tugging at your exhausted mind as it kept spinning, mulling over the events of the day. By the time exhaustion finally won you over, the tears were still falling from your eyes. The anxiety you felt created nightmares to hunt your slumber, that when you woke up you were far from rested.

You weren't certain what woke you precisely, despite the sun fighting the darkness, your bedroom was still dark enough. Your pillows were wet and with your eyes still closed, you touched the fabric only to realise that it must have been your tears that leaked from your eyes during the night. You frowned and rubbed your face, noticing that they had now dried on your face, the salt having left their traces.

Finally, you opened your eyes and found what had woken you, or rather who. Blinking the remnants of sleep from your eyes, you finally looked into the stunning green orbs of your best friend. Her red hair was splayed on the pillow next to yours as she stared at you with a kind smile on her face. She sighed and grasped your hand, squeezing it gently, the small comforting gesture made fresh tears prickle your eyes once more. When she saw them threatening to spill over, she surged forward and wrapped her arms around you, as well as she could due to the awkward position. She rubbed your back and whispered encouraging promises in your ears, telling you that everything would work itself out eventually. You only wished you could believe her.

"I got the keys to the condo," Natasha said softly as she pulled back slightly.

You weren't sure how to respond to that and just nodded. It didn't register with you why that would be important information. When she told you that she'd help you pack a bag, it finally did dawn on you and you remembered all the happy memories that had been made in that place. You wondered for a moment if you should taint that with your current disposition. Natasha, of course, wouldn't hear of it. She simply mentioned that she thought a different environment would do you some good. And you always did like the mountains.

Natasha pushed herself up from the bed and held out her hand for you to take, something you only half heartedly accepted, allowing her to pull you up. As soon as you got off the bed, she wrapped her arms around your frame again, less awkward this time, whispering that she would be there to carry you through the sadness and that you should just let it all out. Choking out a sob, you held onto your friend, leaning on her for the strength you were currently lacking.

You were not sure how long you stood in that comforting embrace, but the moment was only broken by the sound of someone bumping into a chair. Without asking, you knew that it was Wanda and Maria on the other side of the door. You couldn't help but smile as you imagined Wanda silently cursing the chair she had hit and the realisation that these women had dropped everything to be here for you, warmed your heart. No matter what life threw at you, they were always there. Your safety net forever, just as you intended to be theirs.

When you exited your room, Wanda was laughing silently just as Maria slipped into the bathroom. Apparently, it had not been Wanda who had walked into your furniture as you had expected. It was, instead, an uncharacteristically clumsy moment for Maria as she tried to get herself to the toilet. When she came back, she apologised as she suddenly got nauseous and wanted to play it safe. Any concerns for her health were waved away when she explained that she had eaten something bad the night before and that she would be perfectly fine.

Less than an hour later, you found yourself in the backseat of Maria's SUV, seated next to Wanda. The cabin was at least an hour and a half from your apartment. During the drive, you learned that Maria had thought that a change in scenery would do you some good and the others had readily agreed with that. Together, they had quickly arranged this weekend away. You didn't necessarily disagree with their plans, though you wondered how much fun you would be. You still felt a massive lack of energy, but then again, the cabin couldn't be worse than wallowing at home on your own.

Upon arrival, the four of you sat down in the cozy living room of the holiday home. There, the girls asked you to tell them what the therapist had told. Not to make you relive it, but to help you make sense of it all. To help you work through it. By the end of the conversation, Wanda was ready to knock on the man's door and tell him off for hurting your feelings with Maria following suit with the promise of controlled violence. You chuckled at their antics, knowing they wished they could erase your pain. It wasn't until they were quiet once again that you noticed Natasha had not spoken yet and her solemn face told you all you needed to know about her opinion. Carefully, she muttered that there might be some truth to his words and though it hurt to hear, you could only agree.

The therapist had opened your eyes to your own behaviour and it had been long overdue. Those years without Bucky had been spent in pain, wallowing, and you had been standing still because of it. You hadn't dealt with any of your issues and instead just went through the motions. As if your life no longer mattered, as if it stopped the moment he stepped out of the door and took your self worth with him.  
It was unfair to place all that on Bucky and you hadn't meant to do it. It had placed an incredible amount of responsibility on Bucky's shoulders, which had consumed him with guilt. Now, you could not longer deny your own share in the blame. He had done you wrong, yes, but you had stopped living, stopped fighting for yourself and that was not his burden to bear.

You knew you needed to change your behaviour, needed to allow yourself to feel all the pain and uncertainty that you had tried to drone out. You needed to get back to you again. To allow yourself to care for others, without forgetting yourself. If you kept neglecting yourself you'd be no good to anyone in the long haul and you might even drag Bucky down with you.

The amazing women that you called your friends just wanted to know how they could help only you could tell them. You simply didn't know where to start.  
To give you some reprieve of that question, Maria suggested a walk in the crisp mountain air. She was convinced a good exercise would help you collect your thoughts. You weren't as certain, though the walk did sound nice. It would serve as a nice distraction while you mulled over everything that had happened in the last 24 hours.

During the walk, not much was said besides the occasional comment on the weather and the beautiful surroundings. The atmosphere was calm and comfortable. And as Maria had suspected the exercise helped calm you down considerably, it soothed your nerves and was almost enough to make you fully relaxed. It would have, had it not been for Natasha and the tensing of her shoulders. She didn't say anything and even smiled and laughed with the rest of you, but there was something about her demeanour that told you that something was up. Of course, she denied it when you asked her about it and though you wished to know, you decided not to push the subject in that moment. Knowing full well that you'd find out eventually. She had never kept anything from you, she just usually wanted to work it out for herself first.

"I have a plan!" Wanda suddenly exclaimed as you were on the way back to the cabin.

Maria, who had been walking next to her in silence, jumped at the sudden sound and you and Natasha could not help but laugh loudly. Maria was not easy to scare, she rarely ever jumped and you were all glad to have been a witness. Maria jokingly glared as Wanda smiled sweetly. Wanda linked her arm through one of the brunette's and pulled her close enough to peck her cheek.

"So, what about that plan of yours?" Natasha asked once all the giggles had stopped.

"I was thinking a light dinner, followed by lots of wine and snacks?" Wanda said with a bright smile while walking backwards so she could see both you and Natasha, "We can talk smack about anyone and everyone that has ever even attempted to slight us."

She winked at you as she finished and you shook your head with a smile, understanding full well that she wanted to give you the opportunity to badmouth Bucky. Which was incredibly sweet of her, even if you had no intention of doing so. Not only did you see no need to speak ill of your handsome ex-boyfriend, you were also not about to make them listen to you badmouthing their friend. It was something you had done when he left all those years ago, and for good reason, but he had no fault in the current situation. Or at least not all blame could be put on him.

Bucky was not unproblematic, by any means, but he was a good guy. And you loved him. Even if you were not together now, or anytime soon, that part didn't change. You would probably always love him.

"And may I also suggest that you go and take a nap, while we get the supplies for our night of drinking?" Wanda offered as she watched a yawn escape your lips. You chuckled and tried to suppress another one. You had tried to hide your exhaustion the entire walk, but the uneasy night was quickly catching up with you.

"Sounds like a solid plan," you agreed as you opened the door to the cabin and went straight to the bedroom that you and Natasha had claimed that morning. There, you dropped back onto the bed with a deep sigh. Natasha came in after you and smiled as she bent over her suitcase to grab her wallet and a shopping bag.

"Have a nice nap, I might just join you in a bit," she confessed as she rubbed a hand over her face.

"As long as I get to be the big spoon," you winked and she barked out a laugh as she walked towards the bed.

Over the years, the two of you had often shared a bed and Natasha always ended up spooning you. Perhaps because she was so used to cuddling up to Clint, they had been together awfully long after all. It had become a bit of a running joke where you'd tell Clint that the cuddling was so good that you might steal her from him and Natasha would then inform you that you'd stand a good chance of winning that fight. Of course this would prompt Clint in showing some cliche display of affection for his lover, after which she would come back on that claim.

Natasha was still smiling as she leaned over you and placed a kiss on your forehead before walking out of the bedroom and closing the door behind her. Just before the door closed, Maria rushed by, saying she needed a minute, before locking herself in the large bathroom across the hall from your room. You frowned, not truly registering as sleep slowly pulled you under, you barely heard her calling out that she was fine.

* * *

The first bottle of wine was opened during dinner, with Natasha, Wanda and yourself having a glass each. Maria denied the alcohol, citing the stomach bug that seemingly held her in its grasp. They finished the bottle in your glass as you went to do the dishes.  
By the time you were all in the living room, the second bottle was opened and a good portion was poured quickly. By now, you were all dress in your pyjamas and sweats and an assortment of snacks were placed on the small coffee table.

By the time the second bottle was emptied, you were getting significantly louder, which was not how you usually responded to alcohol, but you were laughing and joking so nobody complained. Wanda, with her smaller frame, was giggling more than usual - even at your horribly bad jokes - suddenly finding everything funnier than it really was. At the same time Natasha was barely showing any signs of alcohol consumption. Perhaps she was more quiet than you were used to, but that was it. Maria just watched you all with a smirk, probably relishing in the idea of skipping the hangover in the morning.

The evening began on a happy note, with you all reminiscing over things you'd experienced together. With so many years of friendship between the four of you, there were plenty of memories to choose from. Much like the day that you had worked through the storage space, your dating lives had come up. Another laugh was shared over Maria and Steve's past, Maria perhaps laughing the loudest. She loved Steve a lot, though very much like a brother and not a lover.

Without the need to tease the men over their love lives, suddenly you all remembered the poor boys that tried to win over redhead had always been very picky, not giving many the time of day. That attitude had only made her more popular in high school.  
Wanda's love life was not necessarily a laughing matter. She had been with the same boy for most of their high school years and even though it did not last, he had been a pretty good bloke. Her dates in college were far more enjoyable to discuss in this buzzed state that you were in. Ever since college, there had been little activity however. Wanda was quick to say that she was fine on her own, that it was rather comfortable.

You were quick to exclaim that she was too young to throw in the towel. That a pretty young woman like her would find someone and Wanda only laughed. She knew that this was not the end, though for now it was where she wanted to be. You all accepted her answer after Maria gave her a stern talk that she only ever needed to nod in her direction if she wanted help. Apparently, she had plenty of cousins and colleagues. Both you and Natasha vehemently agreed with the stern brunette and Wanda laughed again, ensuring you all that for now she was just fine on her own. If that changed, she'd happily ask your for assistance.

As things had now turned more serious though, attention quickly turned to you and your feelings. It didn't take long for the tears to start falling and you wondered out loud if there would be another love for you, like the one you'd shared with Bucky. You understood how lucky you had been to have it once and genuinely thought that perhaps it was a once in a lifetime thing. You could only hope that you'd be able to accept a lesser love, because you were far too young to go on without it.

Natasha had quickly hugged you close, promising that there was more in life than Bucky, though she understood that you'd need time to work through this pain. She even urged you to take that time seriously. After which Maria added that perhaps this was not the end for you and Bucky after all. Just a pause, so you could both focus on your own healing. Who knew what would happen if you were both ready to move on from the hurt and heartbreak. She was right, of course, there was so much love between you and Bucky. This didn't have to be the end, even if it needed to end right now.

It was then and there that you made a promise to your friends. No matter what would happen in the long run, you intended to be his friend now. You'd known each other too long to avoid or ignore. Besides, your group was finally complete again, you didn't want to break it up again. Your group had been through hell and back together and you'd make it through this as a group as well.

"One condition," Wanda voiced carefully, "If you ever feel like it's too hard, be honest with us. We will work it out with you."

After you agreed, Maria yawned and you knew the evening was coming to an end. The day had been long and emotionally draining, not just for you. It was time to go to bed. Getting up, you collected the glasses and bowls that had been used and quickly set about cleaning them.

"We can leave them for the morning," Maria said, as she tried and failed to repress another yawn.

"It's fine, sweetheart, you all go to bed!" You promised and kissed her cheek, before returning to your task.

They needed a bit more encouragement from you before they finally listened and went to bed. You moved around the quiet kitchen, no rush to your movements as you cleaned and dried everything, before putting things back where they belonged. You never liked to leave dirty dishes for the next morning, unless it was a single glass or something like that. The few times that you had ignored the dishes, you regretted it in the morning. Especially after a few glasses of wine. You were never a morning person, but with a hangover you were definitely not.

By the time you had brushed your teeth and walked into the bedroom that you and Natasha shared, there was a single light on. It stood on your nightstand and cast a warm yellow light in the room. Natasha must had turned it on before she went to sleep herself. You smiled, she was always thinking of little things like that, making things easier for others. Again you realised just how quiet she had been today and you wondered what was on her mind.

Carefully you slid under the covers, your eye on her frame as you tried not to jostle her too much. That was when you noticed that she was not asleep. She lay completely still, though she couldn't fool you. Her breathing was far too irregular. Her shoulders were pulled up and all the muscles in her back seemed tensed. With a deep sigh you moved closer, that stubborn woman needed to open up a little easier. Allow you to ease the weight on her shoulders better. However, you didn't say any of that. She really didn't need to hear what she already knew. Instead you spotted up behind her and hugged her close, holding tight to let her know you were there for her.

"I'm fine," she squeaked, her voice thick with unshed tears and you snorted, muttering a 'yeah right', before gently brushing her hair from her face.

"Talk to me," you whispered, not letting go just yet.

"It's just…nothing, really."

"Nat, I know you want this weekend to be about me, but that does not mean you have to push your feelings down," you continued, soothingly rubbing her arm. She needed to know that you were there for her. Being heartbroken didn't change that, nothing ever would.

"Look if you're not ready, that's ok, but if it's to spare others, please stop," if she really didn't want to tell you, you didn't want to push her too much. As long as she knew that you would always be there, a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on.

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**###**

* * *

You half expected her to brush aside your concern when suddenly she began to sob. Natasha rarely cried and the sound of her tears broke your heart. She turned around in your arms as the sobs wracked her body and she clung on to you. You had known her most of your life and this was the first time you had seen her in this much pain. You couldn't possibly imagine what it was that ailed her, though you didn't ask. She was in no position to tell you now, you had to wait for the tears to pass.

When they did, she told you about the gut wrenching fear that somehow her body was failing her. That she was failing Clint. You knew he would never think like that, he simply adored her. You didn't think there was anything she could do or say to change that, but apparently she thought differently. She explained that for the past year or so they had been trying to get pregnant and still nothing had happened. This wasn't something you knew much about and you were unsure what to say or do to comfort her. All you could do was hold her tight and let her cry it out.

"It doesn't have to mean anything. Sometimes, it just takes a while," you finally said, your voice steady as you repressed the emotions that flooded upon her confession. This was not the time to let those feelings out. This was about Natasha and only her.

"Have you seen a doctor about it?" You asked when she was calming down again, hoping it would not bring about a fresh wave of tears. You simply wished to know, so you could assist if she needed you. There was nothing you wouldn't do to help your sweet caring friend through this ordeal.

"I have an appointment next week," She explained, her breathing returning to normal. Though her voice was still thick and raspy with emotion.

"Are you going alone?"

"No, Clint took the day off" a small smile made its way to her lips. He really was a good guy, though you had known that already of course. That man had been an amazing friend to you. To everyone in his life actually.

"Good, if there is anything I can do for you, I'll drop everything. No questions asked. Okay?!" As you spoke those words, you placed a hand on her cheek, making her look you in the eye. You hoped it would show her just how serious you were. She had been your rock for so long, it was about time you could return that favour. Preferably a million times over.

"Thanks, Y/n." She smiled as she leaned into your sideways hug.

"What are friends for," you whispered and held her close, rubbing her back, soothing her until she finally fell asleep.


	18. Chapter 18

**Flashlight**

* * *

_Chapter eighteen_

* * *

When you came up with your current plan, you hadn't realised just how difficult it would be to execute. The original choice had been easy, reasonable. The conversation that needed to be held was another story entirely. Which was why you were now standing outside of this apartment, with a whirlwind of emotions flooding your senses. Despite that, you knew you had to follow through with this plan of yours. And it was up to you to take that first step. With the conversations you'd had during the girls weekend still clear in your mind, it was obvious to you what step it had to be. That was why you took a few deep breaths to calm yourself, before finally knocking on the dark red door that blocked the apartment behind it from you.

When Pietro opened that door mere seconds later, you smiled at him, trying to appear brighter than you felt. He stepped aside with eyes full of compassion, or was it perhaps pity? You didn't know, but either made sense. You just hoped for compassion. Compassion was easier to accept, than pity. Pity was for when you felt powerless and weak. This choice didn't feel weak. Tough, definitely, but one fuelled by a strength you were only now rediscovering. He silently pulled you into a hug, holding you close for only a short moment before he walked towards the couch situated in the living room. There, he turned up the volume of the television and you chuckled. You knew, as he probably did, that the contents of the conversation that you were about to have would not remain a mystery to him for long. Still, you appreciated his attempt at giving you some privacy while you hashed out details with the man that was currently in the bedroom furthest from the living room.

Again you knocked, a blue door this time, and as Bucky opened up you immediately asked him if perhaps he was willing to talk. Bucky nodded and quickly stepped back into the room, scooping up some clothes that he had discarded on the floor. His bed was neatly made and he signalled with a wave of his arm that you could sit on it. After he dropped the pile of clothes in the hamper near the door, he sat on a dingy chair across from you - nervously wringing his hands.

With his stare directed to the floor between you two, you took a moment to take in his demeanour. His shoulders were hunched and his foot was rapidly tapping against the leg of the chair. He was nervous, worried even and you sighed at your instinct to put him at ease. You were dreading this conversation as much as he was, and in this moment you should perhaps focus on yourself instead of him and what his needs might be. Your heart was racing and your eyes pricked with unshed tears. It wasn't the talk itself, the intent behind it was actually good. A solid idea for the near future. However, being near him was hard. It had only been one week since you last saw him and feelings were still very raw. There had not been remotely enough time to let your sadness settle.

"So-" you began, trailing off immediately. Silently cursing at yourself as you struggled to find the right words to convey what you wanted to say. This silence was only making it far more awkward than necessary.

"Yeah," Bucky mumbled, clearly not knowing what to say either. Which wasn't that surprising, he had not been expecting you and didn't know what you wanted to say.

"I know we're supposed to create some distance," you finally managed to say, "And I don't want to ignore that."

"But?" He interjected impatiently and you realised you were being vague and long winded. You needed to make this short and clear.

"We're part of the same group of friends and neither one of us should have to walk away from that."

The chair Bucky was sitting on creaked as he shifted. You looked at him and saw he was still wringing his hands repeatedly - the flesh one moving over the prosthetic one. Repressing the urge to grasp onto them, you cleared your throat and focussed on a spot on the wall on your left. His level of nervousness made you wonder if this was about the conversation or simply because of your presence. You truly didn't know, which showed you just how out of touch you had become to what he needed. You couldn't even be sure that it was nerves or another kind of unease. You had been making assumptions and again realised that this was bad for the both of you. You either needed to let him tell you how he felt, if he needed your help, or let him figure it out on his own. Good intentions only got you so far, strong communication would get you further.

"I still want us to be friends, at least," you softly explained, suddenly afraid that he would reject your idea.

Bucky stood up suddenly, releasing a breath he had apparently been holding. He grabbed your hand and pulled you up into a tight hug.

"Thank god," he mumbled, his lips close to your left ear and he held you close. His warm breath cascaded over your neck and caused goosebumps to erupt all over your body. "I couldn't imagine life without you," he whispered as he stepped back and you laughed, more out of relief than anything else.

"Think we can do it?" He then asked in all seriousness, looking into your eyes - something he had been avoiding up until that moment. Tears were brimming his eyes and you knew he saw the same with you.

Lately, Bucky had been so quiet about what he wanted or needed, that this confession shocked you a little. It was a clear declaration that soothed your nerves immensely, confirming that your connection since his return had not all been in your head. It wasn't all based on your assumptions at least. Which was a good thing.

These past few months it had been so easy to fall back into a familiar routine together. One where words weren't necessary, where you simply understood what the other wanted. Or thought you did anyway, because neither one of you was the same person as you had been all those years ago and by reverting to your old habits so quickly, you hadn't taken the time to get to know the new version of the other. Sticking your head in the sand, to avoid those two long years where you had been separated. It was wise to get to know each other again and the person you had both become in the absence of your relationship.

"I just know I'm willing to try," you finally said, taking a few steps back from him, despite the desire to remain in his arms forever.

Your heart was already aching from the nearness in such a short amount of time, it was really beating on you. As did the idea of the distance that would naturally grow between you from now on. Instantly you wondered if you were kidding yourself here. Could you simply be his friend and nothing more? You really didn't know. What you did know was that you wanted him in your life in whatever capacity possible and you didn't want to break up your group of friends. Still, he somehow already felt miles and miles away from you.

"Me too," he agreed, a sad smile on his features and you almost stepped forward again to hug him close. Luckily you managed to stop yourself.

Bucky took a step back and moved to stand behind the chair he had been sitting on earlier. Holding onto the backrest, he seemed to be dealing with an internal struggle as he looked at the floor and shifted in place. He was clearly uneasy, but he wasn't speaking and you didn't ask. You did wonder if his instincts had been the same as yours, the wish for one more hug. For now, you knew it was easier -better- not to go there.

To ease the situation the best you could, you stepped towards the door with a last lingering smile and a wave goodbye, leaving his room and closing the door behind you. With your hand still on the doorknob, you took a moment to breathe in deeply and force the tears to remain at bay for a moment longer. When you were confident that you wouldn't start balling at the sight of your friend in the living room, you walked back to the living room.

By the sudden jump it was clear that Pietro had been anxiously awaiting your return from Bucky's room. Putting on a brave face, you smiled and bent down to kiss the top of his head, before walking to the front door and letting yourself out. You couldn't stay there a moment longer. Once in the hallway, you sped up to your retreat. Forcing yourself not to flat out run, but walking really fast instead as you exited the building. You had a sudden, huge desire for fresh air.

When you finally made it to your parked car, you got in and allowed your tears to fall freely. You didn't start driving for a while, waiting instead for the worst of your crying to subside so you could actually see the road again.

* * *

Placing the last plate in the cabinet above your kitchen counter, you sighed deeply. You were tired. It was finally Friday and the workweek had been horrendous. This was always the busiest time of the year, and usually you thrived with the pressure weighing on you, however with everything that had been going on, you weren't able to manage quite as well. You couldn't adjust to the added stress as well as you wanted to. You were always tired and your sadness was constantly crashing onto you in waves. It was overwhelming. You knew you needed to move, do something, but had little energy left after work to actually figure out what. And though you knew you needed to make a plan to kickstart your life again, all you really wanted by the time that you got home was to lay on the couch and watch some mind numbing tv. Or a sad movie and a good cry, that also seemed like a reasonable plan to you. Despite knowing that those things only helped again, that had been your way of life for a while now, short term solutions.

It was only the third week since the therapy session that had changed your outlook on your current way of life and you were still trying to adjust to the realisations you had made that day. To make matters worse, you were having quite a bit of trouble navigating your own set rules. You wanted to be Bucky's friend, truly. You wanted him in your life and yet, you were working surprisingly hard at avoiding him. It was still too hard, too fresh and entirely too painful. Therefore you had given yourself one more week to avoid him and everyone else, before you needed to put on your big-girl-pants.

Your behaviour hadn't gone unnoticed to say the least. Wanda was worried, Nat had gotten stern with you and Maria was somewhere in-between the two. Even Bucky had sent you a message earlier that week, after cancelling last minute on an invitation of Maria for dinner. He had wondered if you perhaps wanted to take back what you had said. You had replied that this was not the case, that you were simply busy and would see them all soon. He hadn't bothered you since, probably understanding that you needed some space. Though his concern had felt good, and that was confusing enough. You needed more time.

A knock on the door pulled you from your train of thoughts, dropping the cloth that you had used to wipe down the counter, you sighed and walked towards the front door. Whoever was on the other side was persistent, repeatedly knocking and increasing the loudness.  
You weren't expecting anyone and with a heightened sense of annoyance, you finally opened the door. The annoyance - which most certainly made your face resemble grumpy cat - was short-lived once you saw who greeted you. In the hallway stood two of your favourite people, Wanda and Natasha. They were both clearly intoxicated, giggling and whispering loudly as only intoxicated people can, that they had wanted to surprise you.

Stepping aside to let them in, Wanda happily showed you the contents of her bag. Two bottles of wine. Raising an eyebrow you stared at her as she placed them on the coffee table. She then quickly strode into your kitchen, you assumed to grab glasses for the three of you. Turning back to Natasha you realised she was struggling to get inside. She was trying to carry a large contraption through the door. You laughed and helped her navigate through your doorway, hallway and into the living room. There she began her set-up in front of your tv, while Wanda made quick work of pouring drinks.

"Please tell me you didn't drive here," you said as you dropped down on the couch.

"Clint dropped us off," Wanda explained as she sat down next to you.

You smiled with a nod, relieved, and turned your attention back to Natasha. Finally you noticed just what her contraption was. A writing board. Your office used them during training sessions, so someone could write down whatever people said during brainstorming. The large sheets of paper that were attached to the high stand were checkered and white. You realised its use in the office but wondered what they wanted with it in your home.

When Natasha was finally satisfied with its position in the room, she stood straight, sipped from her glass and presented it as if she had just showed you a wonderful powerpoint presentation. She waved her arms and exclaimed a 'tadaa'. Perhaps, in her enthusiasm, she had forgotten that she was yet to inform you of the intentions behind their impromptu visit.

"WE," she called loudly, pointing to Wanda and herself, "are here to help you devise a plan."

"That's wonderful," you chuckled, "And for what exactly?"

"To get you back on track," Wanda offered with a broad smile, while Natasha retrieved a large black marker from her pocket. Using a large but clear font, she wrote on the top of the first sheet: Y/N's one year plan.

"One year huh?" You were terrified of the mere idea of thinking that far ahead. Still you recognised the effort they had put into this for you and you did not want to dismiss it.

"We'll start small and grow from there," Natasha elaborated with a smile and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Small? I have trouble thinking a week ahead right now, let alone a year," you confessed and Wanda squeezed your hand.

"That's because you're wandering aimlessly, we're going to change that tonight! Add some direction," Natasha said, "Tell me something you have always wanted to do."

Natasha stood beside the board, ready to write your ideas down, marker at the ready. She was probably expecting something to fall from your lips instantly, but you couldn't think of anything at all. What did you want? Did you even know anymore?  
Finally, after a few moments of silence, Natasha capped the marker again and sat down on the coffee table, facing you and taking your hand in hers. Wanda topped off your glasses and for a while after that the three of you just talked. No expectations, no planning, just you airing your heart and them offering nothing but the immense kindness that they held in their hearts.

When the conversation finally lead to your job, you complained about the stress of it and the never relenting demands it placed on you. Wanda was quick to question if perhaps it was time for something new. A little confused you stopped talking. You had been in the same job for years now and at first you had looked for other options, but you had become complacent.

"You haven't been happy in that job for a while now," Wanda said, "Perhaps you should try and figure out what would be a fun new experience."

"One that pays at least as well as this one, otherwise it's bye bye to this apartment," you joked. You knew she was right, but it was a scary thought. Change wasn't something you wanted to seek out.

"Would you stop worrying for one moment and just look into it? You don't need to take any further action if you don't want to, but don't dismiss it out of fear," Natasha scolded and you smiled, she was right two of course, you did let fear get the best of you. Often.

When you had been a child, no task had seemed too big or insurmountable. Everything new was simply exciting, every challenge an adventure. As you got older that changed and the past few years it had been all but gone from your personality. You wondered if you could ever get it back, or at least some portion of it. With your ability to oversee consequences far better then when you had been a child, you would most likely never be quite as free again, but you didn't need to be. You just wanted to live.

Natasha stood up from the table and took her marker out again, writing down: exploring the job market. She also added travel in parentheses behind it. You laughed, she really did know you well. As a teenager you had always thought that was the business you'd end up in, in some shape or form. But after college, jobs have been scarce and you have been all too happy to find the job that you had. And it had been a good job, it just wasn't your dream job and if you had the opportunity to find just that, you would be insane to walk away from it. You would just have to start looking again.

With your first point out of the way, the three of you got in a groove. Spouting off ideas left and right, and Natasha writing them all down. No matter how crazy they were. From going to a ballet recital, to theatre, bungee jumping, parachuting - those were a little out there- you were having fun. There were some more serious ideas as well; working as a tour guide in the city, finding a new gym and book a holiday. Finally, when there was a list of ten-something points, Natasha asked you about old and current hobbies. You snorted, current hobbies? Did lounging on the couch and watching tv count? They didn't seem legitimate options, no matter how comfortable they were.

"What about your photography?" Natasha wondered and Wanda immediately got giddy, she had always loved your photos.

You shrugged, unsure. Photography had been something you had loved doing in both high school and college. But with work and life demanding more from your time, you had finally left it behind years ago. You wondered if it was something you could just go back to. It had always been fun to do, relaxing, since there were no expectations, no pressure. You'd just walk around and shoot whatever you came across. Some days that meant hundreds of pictures and other days you had none. Both had been fine with you.

"Why don't we go for a walk tomorrow," Wanda offered, "It's fun and you can maybe take some pictures, or not, whatever you want."

You smiled and took her up on her offer for a walk. And with that the night had come to an end, all three of you yawning but content with the results. Natasha called Clint and he quickly came to pick them up. You waved them off, watching Clint carry everything down as Nat and Wanda linked arms and skipped in front of him. He chuckled and looked back at you, you shared a laugh, before you closed the door. With a smile you went off to bed, feeling lighter than you had in weeks.

* * *

_**A/n:** Apologies for the wait. _  
_And as always a huge thank you to my beta beanstalk007 on tumblr. Unfortunately she is unable to help me moving forward, so I am in need of a new beta. If you can help me, please contact me on tumblr. shadowsof-thenight (link in my bio)_


	19. Chapter 19

**Flashlight**

* * *

_Chapter nineteen_

* * *

"Yo!" Natasha's elated voice sounded from the speaker of your phone. It echoed through the kitchen as you started getting your breakfast ready.

"Yo?" You replied, a little confused by her attitude at this early hour.

She chuckled, followed by a crunch, and you knew she was munching down on her favourite cereal. Natasha prided herself on changing her morning routine frequently; she was convinced it was beneficial for her health. You weren't certain if that was true, but you knew she always returned to the same type of cereal after a little while.

"I need you to keep next Saturday free," she said after a few moments and a very audible swallow. She was teasing you— she knew how the sounds of someone chewing and swallowing loudly could raise the hairs on the back of your neck. You tried to ignore it, not willing to give her the satisfaction. Though, if she kept it up, you both knew that there'd be a groan or a snippy remark leaving your mouth soon enough.

"Mhhm okay," you finally said after quietly counting to ten."May I know why?"

"It's a surprise." You could practically hear the smirk in your friend's voice. Her surprises were always a little out there. Which could go one of two ways, really well or really bad. Her intentions were always good— the execution not exactly.

"A fun one?" You asked, hoping against hope that she would give you a hint.

"Absolutely," Natasha said confidently. She was giddy and that worried you a little.

What did she have planned for you? She wouldn't make you do something you didn't want, right? Your mind instantly went back to the time she decided on the colour that you were supposed to dye your hair in an attempt to annoy your parents. It was supposed to be a wash-out brand, but Nat had decided on bright blue, and apparently that colour was tough to get out. You ended up actually having to get your hair dyed to get the colour out, which really annoyed your parents at the time, though they laugh about it now.

Then there was the time where she had convinced you that the rollercoaster you were getting on wasn't that wild or scary. A terrible decision that left her holding back your hair as you threw up in a bin around the back of the ride.

Natasha knew you better than anyone, and she worked hard to get you out of your comfort zone, to be a little more daring. You smiled at the memories, because even if it did not always pan out, your life would have been a lot more boring without her. You would most likely have never taken a single chance in life. You would have never been brave enough to kiss Bucky during a school dance, which was what prompted him to ask you out on a date. How different your life would've been without your demanding, daring, caring, and confident best friend.

With that being said, when Saturday rolled around, you were extremely nervous. After spending the better part of the week trying to get some information from Natasha, you were none the wiser. She was good at keeping secrets. A great quality in a friendship, except when she was keeping something from you, of course.

Natasha had come over the night before, eager to make it a sleepover, since the men had decided on having a boys-night out. Your alarm would ring at seven in the morning and she knew better than to expect Clint to be quiet as he rolled into their bed at five. Which was the usual hour after these nights. So the two of you had dinner, watched a movie and then went to bed rather early at Natasha's request.

Natasha woke up first and was already fully dressed by the time she shook you awake in a not-so-gentle way. Groaning, you turned away from her and complained loudly when she did not relent. Chuckling, she pulled you up and ushered you into the bathroom. It wasn't until you were in the shower that you realised that your alarm hadn't even gone off yet. Annoyed, you leaned into the warm water and vowed to go through your routine at a more leisurely pace than usual. As if that was her punishment and not actually for your own delight. It wasn't until Natasha knocked on the door, urging you to hurry, that you realised that you had been massaging shampoo into your hair for the better part of five minutes. Rushing through the rest of your routine, you were dressed and at the breakfast table by 7:30.

There you were greeted with an elaborate breakfast provided by Natasha. To make up for the early morning, she had made your favourite breakfast dish— blueberry pancakes. And while you appreciated the gesture, it also made you wonder just what she had in store for you today.

By eight o'clock you were in the car, moving towards the highway out of town. Natasha had told you that your appointment was at ten, so the ride would be long, but you never needed much to have fun together. You adjusted the seat to your preference and stared out of the window as Natasha turned on the radio. At some point you must have dozed off, until a catchy song on the radio woke you up. Natasha smiled as you sat up straighter, and she turned the volume up with a wink in your direction. Not long after that, you were both singing along to the lyrics at the top of your voice.

With twenty minutes to spare, Natasha pulled into the parking lot of a small airport, and your heart began to race. What was she planning to do here? Natasha beamed at you and got out of the car, waiting patiently for you to follow her. Which took you a moment as you breathed deeply in and slowly out, wiping your suddenly sweaty palms on your jeans. Somehow you did not believe that she had brought you here for a simple flight. If you had known just how right you were, you would have locked yourself inside the car right then and there. Instead you just stepped out and let her lead you towards a small building where a tall middle-aged man greeted the two of you with a bright smile and a few kind words.

Before you could truly register what was happening, you had been through some instructions and ended up strapped into a harness and hooked to an instructor as he moved you through the small plane and towards the opened door. Wind whipped at your hair, pulling fly-aways out of your braid. It tugged at the jumpsuit you'd put on earlier, and despite the padding, you were chilled to the bone. Though that might have been from fear and not actual cold. Your stomach churned and you wondered if you were really going to do this.

By now your feet were dangling over the edge, and you were certain that your bladder was about to give out— even though it was surely empty. You were mere seconds from pulling out when the instructor began his countdown, preparing you for the jump. Glancing to the side, Natasha gave you two thumbs up as she smiled brightly, excitedly. She was truly enjoying this. You, however, were not.

The worst part of it was, this had been your idea. Sort of. You had been so stupid to mention this during the brainstorm session with Natasha and Wanda, though you had been joking. Apparently, the joke was on you now. Which was exactly how you felt, a joke. Worse, the punchline to a bad joke. You were such an idiot. You could have bowed out on the ground, but you hadn't. A part of you had thought it would be fun. Scary, but fun. So you had stepped onto the plane. How you regretted that now.

"One!" Called the instructor tied to your back, and he pushed off. Both of you dropped from the plane and plummeted to the ground.

The wind pulled at your skin, taking your breath away, as well as any ability to scream. It took some effort to close your mouth as you watched the ground come closer and closer, realising just how high you had been. You were still scared, so incredibly scared, and yet, for a single moment, as you fell, it was also exhilarating. There was a weightlessness to it, a freedom fuelled by adrenaline. Suddenly all your worries were gone, pushed from your mind; nothing else seemed to matter— nothing but this weightless freedom. Nothing but the parachute and the desperate hope that it would work, that your instructor would manage to land you both safely on the ground. Which should be an easy feat for the experienced man behind you.

In the plane you had gotten a full explanation on how the landing would go and as the ground neared, the instructor yelled out a few reminders. You nodded, unable to speak with those winds still whipping at your face. He gave you his signal and while he pulled the toggles to slow the speed of your descent, you pulled your legs up against your chest. It felt very counterintuitive to curl up as the ground came closer, but you told yourself that this was necessary for a safe landing. Otherwise you'd risk getting your feet tangled with those of the man behind you, and that would definitely cause problems. The landing was over in seconds, and you found yourself seated on the dry grass with a huge smile on your face.

Natasha landed mere moments after you, and as soon as she was free of the bindings that had tied her to her own instructor and their parachute, you wrapped her in your arms while laughing loudly. Exhilaration overpowered every other emotion now, and the adrenaline was still coursing through you. You jumped around together in a small circle, happy that you had dared to take this plunge.

"Can we go again?" Natasha asked the men as they began folding the parachute, a pick-up visible in the distance— their ride back to the airport.

"Quite the kicker, isn't it," one of them replied with a chuckle, and you could only agree with him, wholeheartedly.

Though you still vowed to never do it again. This was one of those things that you only wanted to experience once. You were glad that you had done it, but that was it. There was no need to repeat it. Natasha on the other hand seemed fully prepared to do it several times over. She always had been the more daring of you two. The most daring of the entire group really. Balls of steel, that woman.

* * *

When you'd gotten yourself out of the jumper you'd been made to wear, Natasha took you to lunch at a quaint little diner about fifteen minutes away from the airport. There, you both spoke excitedly about the whole experience and the first item of your bucket list that you could check off.

You were just swallowing your last bite when your phone began to buzz. Slightly surprised that the world was still out there, you picked it from your pocket and glanced at the screen. An unknown number. Confused, you answered, and you nearly dropped your fork upon hearing who it was and why.

An apologetic Steve was begging for both your discretion and your time. Not a regular request, but he sounded rather urgent, and you were willing to help him in any way you could. So you asked for an explanation, while Natasha quickly went to the register to pay for your food. Steve was quick to explain that the four of them had gotten into some trouble and were currently being detained at the police station a mere ten minutes from your place. You groaned, not even bothering to ask what had brought them there. Instead you told him you were quite some ways away from home, but that you were on it. Arrangements would be made to get them out as quickly as possible.

Natasha came back from the counter and quickly collected her things, a smile tugging at her lips as she sighed.

"They got in trouble, didn't they?" She said with a scoff, and you could only shrug. This wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last, you imagined. Especially not now that they were complete again. Those men were trouble personified when they got together.

"I just wonder why they called me," you wondered out loud as you made your way to the car.

"Steve called?" You nodded and she chuckled.

"Well he wouldn't call Sharon—he's still easing her into our group of degenerates. Sam would've been adamant not to call Maria, because she'd chew his head off. And I'd just laugh at them. It was either you or Wanda. And Wanda's working today."

"I feel so special now," you laughed and searched your purse for your phone, only to realise it was already in your lap. Natasha started the car and checked the mirrors before exiting the parking spot. You had offered to drive but Natasha had just smirked, saying that they had called you, so it was now your job to inform Maria. You'd groaned loudly, not looking forward to that conversation at all. Even though it was a call she was probably already expecting. After all, she would have noticed that her man hadn't come home that night. And she would have put two and two together.

These boys' nights were infamous amongst your group—and to anyone that knew you long enough. There was no way to predict what they would get up to, but it was often trouble. Naturally, the so-called innocent Steve was often the instigator. He was reckless, strong-willed and he never backed down. That stubbornness had gotten him into trouble so many times as a kid, but it had never changed. Bucky had taken to jumping in, trying to salvage whatever he could, which rarely worked. Clint, on the other hand, knew just how to egg everyone on—he liked a little chaos every now and again. After Sam had joined your little group, there'd been a short moment in time where you hoped he would have been more sensible. He wasn't. He was just as bad as the rest of them and he loved every second of it.

It often resulted in four severely hungover men with crazy stories, like the time they were attacked by a swan because they had thought the animal needed help building her nest. The bruises had been real. As had your laughter. You had tried to explain that good intentions didn't mean much if the execution was bad, but it had done nothing to enlighten them—though they had checked the next morning to see if the animal was alright.

You had loved teasing them those mornings, speaking a little too loudly or laughing a little too much as they battled the effects of the alcohol. You never quite enjoyed mornings as much as you did during those moments. It was like they all turned into idiots that couldn't recognise their limits at all when they got together like that.

You remembered the first time something had occurred; it had been near the end of high school and had ended with Bucky serenading you underneath your bedroom window. Steve and Clint had been hiding in the bushes, but by the time they'd woken the whole neighbourhood up, those two had skedaddled—hanging Bucky out to dry. Your father had been so angry, but you hadn't been able to stop laughing. It had taken some time after that for Bucky to win your father over again.

And you would never forget the Halloween that they teepeed the house of some bully—which they had gotten away with, since they'd managed to hide in Natasha's shed afterwards. Her parents had known, though they played dumb. Everyone knew of the reputation of the bully, and that his parents would just sweep it all under the rug if anyone ever caught him.

Their—perhaps misguided—crusade for justice had only increased once Sam joined their nights. They had spent many a night creating places to sleep for the homeless, not caring that they were vandalising government property. You imagined just how glad the local politicians must have been when the men joined the army. Of course nobody could have predicted that they would only come home with one more trouble maker amongst them. And now on their first night out with the four of them in years, things had obviously gotten out of hand.

And now it was up to you to inform Maria of this. Not because you were telling on Sam— you were certain that Maria already knew what happened, but she knew the law better than any one of you. She was a paralegal and would be able to get them out of trouble most of the time. Which was also why she would be angry with Sam. She'd tell him that he should've known better. Which he did, until those other boneheads joined in.

* * *

By the time you reached the precinct nearly two hours had passed, and you were well-informed of the stupid antics that they'd gotten up to the night before. Though you couldn't even be really mad at them.

In a drunken stupor, they had gotten into a fight with another group. Bullies, according to Maria. Which would normally not get them arrested, except they were trained combatants and therefore outmatched the other group easily. They were held to a higher standard. They had also been rowdy, the police informed you. To calm matters down, they'd arrested the lot of them. Nobody had been severely injured—just some minor abrasions, bruised eyes, and bruised egos—leaving the boys with a mere misdemeanour charge. Your hope was that Maria could get those dropped if she explained the situation.

Which she then proceeded to do, though only because the officer in charge had gotten the full scoop on the story and he had never intended to give them much trouble. Naturally, not one of you had any intention of letting these men know. They better show some gratitude to their saving angel, Maria.

"Hello there, boys!" You exclaimed as you walked up to the bars that caged them in. It was late in the afternoon, but with their sleepless night, you were certain that their hangover would be particularly bad this time. It was all the incentive you needed to be as chipper as you could possibly be.

"Shush," Clint said. "No need to scream."

You smirked as you looked at him, tilting your head to the side and winking. He groaned and slumped on the hard bench he was sitting on. Sam and Bucky had already covered their ears as soon as you opened your mouth, keeping a careful eye on you—scared that you'd start speaking again as soon as they uncovered them. This was not unthinkable.

Only Steve seemed genuinely happy to see you, unfazed by your loud voice. He always did recover easiest from a night of drinking. Which was unfair, since he was usually the one to persuade others to match him beer for beer. Only Maria ever managed.

"Drunk and disorderly, huh?" You asked, perhaps still a little too loud, and Clint muttered some angry words under his breath. You chuckled, before turning back to Steve.

"We really weren't that bad, I promise," Steve offered and you laughed, one of those full-out belly laughs, loud and boisterous, because you knew them. Even if you had not been aware of exactly what they had done, you would never expect them to be angels. They were more like warriors. For justice, as they liked to claim. They simply lacked the finesse that would keep them from being arrested. You cocked an eyebrow and shot him a pointed look, which was enough to make Steve groan. He knew the jig was up; they were busted.

"Did you bail us out?" Sam asked after a short moment, hopeful eyes looking your way.

"Oh hell no, I don't have that kind of cash," you chuckled, not bothering to inform them that no bail had been set. They had not been arraigned. His hangover must have been worse than you thought.

"Did you just come to gloat?" Clint groaned as he stood up and walked towards you. You smirked again and winked.

"Gloating is part of it, yes, but I also arranged for Maria to come, and she's currently trying to get the charges dropped," you finally told them, taking mercy on them.

"You called Maria?" Sam seemed genuinely worried, and you laughed. He made it seem like she would smack him around for this. She'd be angry, naturally, chew him out, but he'd apologise and things would work out just fine in a day or two. Clint sat down beside him and patted him on the back.

"Yep," you said, popping the P, "Sorry, buddy, but you knew you couldn't hide this from her."

Sam just nodded. You were right. Of course. Besides, you would have never been able to get much done for them, whereas Maria was a force to be reckoned with in situations like this.

"Wait, you don't gloat. That's not your style," Clint said, sitting up. "How did the surprise go over?" A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes, and you knew there was no hiding your own misfortune.

"Well, let's just put it like this; I'm glad I did it, but if I ever get any ideas again—just shoot me."

Clint barked out a laugh, earning him a punch from both Sam and Bucky, before Sam realised that he had no idea why the man laughed. Sam wasn't the kind of person that was often left out of a joke—he needed to know the gist of it.

"Wait what did you do?" He stood from the bench and joined Steve by the bars, cocking his head to the side as he took you in. It surprised you just how quickly he had forgotten about his hangover.

"Nat took her for a parachute jump," Clint said, and laughter erupted from the others, to which you just shook your head because you couldn't even blame them. They all remembered the puking after the rollercoaster from hell. Ever since, you had not been in search of adrenaline quite as much.

"And this was your idea?" Bucky asked incredulously, finally opening his mouth.

"Unfortunately." You shrugged and cocked your head to one side again, making no effort to suppress the smile that broke out on your face. Bucky just shook his head with another chuckle.

* * *

_**A/N:** I found a new beta and she was kind enough to work quickly, so I could post this weekend! Thanks gnomewithalaptop on tumblr! _  
_And as always, feedback is appreciated! _


	20. Chapter 20

**Flashlight**

* * *

_Chapter twenty_

* * *

After the charges were dropped, life quickly went back to normal. Sam spend some time profusely apologising to Maria—promising to never do such a thing again. She'd scoffed whenever he repeated the promise, knowing full well that he wouldn't hold himself to it. Maria understood, as you did, that while Sam never went looking for trouble, he was never one to look away from injustice. And even though his first course of action was mediating—and even though he was exceptional at it—he would jump into the fray, with little care for his own safety, if he deemed it important. Steve was just like Sam in that sense, though his apologies to Sharon were much more readily accepted. To her it all appeared rather wonderful, standing up for others.

None of their antics had really surprised you. What had had been the silence that had met your ears on the ride home. With Clint and Bucky in the car, you had half-expected their laughter to erupt as they recounted their adventure. You had expected to hear them talk of the reasons behind it and their justifications. None of that had come. Sharing glances with Natasha through the rearview mirror, you knew that she had been equally surprised, and neither of you pushed the subject.

Instead, Natasha had spent most of the ride poking at Clint's bruised cheek, laughing as he swatted her hand away and grumbled that he needed sleep. Natasha rarely got angry at Clint, often saying that he'd carry the consequences and that was enough for her. Poking his bruises was one way she ensured that he realised those consequences. She was also very good at pointed looks whenever he said something contradicting his own behaviour. Like when he had given a cousin the advice to take the high road, a few years back. The cousin had quickly realised that Clint didn't follow his own advice.

While Natasha teased Clint, you had observed Bucky—surprised to find him quiet and staring out of the window in a daze. You weren't sure if talking to him would be the right choice in that moment. Eventually, you had settled on asking him if he had been hurt in the process, to which he had shaken his head and offered a small smile. Upon noticing that the smile did not reach his eyes, worry had grown inside of you. He clearly didn't want to talk and you knew it was no longer your place to press the issue. It hadn't been easy to restrain yourself, but you'd known it was the best course of action in that moment. He no longer owed you any answers and that realisation stung more than you had expected it to.

You later learned that all of the men had kept mum on the subject of their night in jail and after a few weeks, no more questions passed any of your lips— and all of you chose instead to let it slide. Every single woman in the group simply accepting that they would've had their reasons to keep quiet.  
And all too soon, two months passed by and life had moved on.

Instead, you focussed on keeping your feelings for Bucky in check and picking yourself up. With Natasha on your case, you continued to give new impulses to your life—applying for other jobs and immersing yourself in photography again. It was enough to swallow you up and it helped you close your eyes to the things you weren't ready to face—even though you knew you couldn't ignore them forever. After all, repressed feelings had a tendency to fester, creating emotions that never needed to be. Caught up in your wilful ignorance, you didn't even notice it happened until it overwhelmed you.

Merely being Bucky's friend had proved too difficult a task—the delicate process not something either of you was really equipped to balance. And it resulted in the two of you dancing around each other, avoiding any and all subjects that could address the issues that still hung in the air. What little contact you'd had had been light, focussing on silly subjects such as the state of the weather. It was enough to break your heart a little more each time you interacted, and it finally prompted you to avoid him completely. Skipping dinners and outings that included him soon had you isolated completely and though it was far from ideal, it was easier. And the more dinners you skipped, the easier it became to ignore that voice in the back of your head that told you this was a temporary band-aid and nothing more.

Your friends worried, you knew, but you were so caught up in your own little bubble that you managed to ignore their pointed looks. You barely realised that you were pushing them away. Not that Natasha was really allowing your pushing or your ignoring for that matter. She told you more than once that you'd have to open up, speak up, and confront your demons at some point. There were things you needed to address, and turning a blind eye wasn't helping you. You knew she was right, of course; you even admitted this to her, but you were at a loss. You didn't know where to begin that loaded conversation. Or if Bucky was even open to it.

And with your emotions festering due to your inability to take action, the cracks in your facade were beginning to show. You smiled less and less, happiness becoming a foreign subject to you.  
You knew your friends were pulling out their hair, trying to help you create a change. But they could only do so much. Eventually, it would be up to you and him.

And it wasn't until one Saturday morning, hours before you were to attend a group dinner for the first time in months, that the dam holding back your emotions finally broke. Everything you had kept inside came bursting out, prompted by a dream.

* * *

_"Mommy, mommy!" A shrill young voice called out, an urgency clear in her tone._

_The voice was soon followed by the sound of small feet pattering over the hardwood floor, moving towards you. From around the corner of the living room, a little girl appeared and ran into the kitchen to where you stood. You'd been cutting vegetables and put down the knife as she lunged for your legs. She begged you to pick her up and save her, giggling a little as you wrapped her in your arms._

_"Mommy, he com'n Mommy." The same urgency to her tone, though there were signs of pure mirth in her eyes. Even in your dreaming state, you were shocked by the realisation that she was yours—there was no denying it as you looked up her small frame. Still, you replied, catching on to the playful nature of her pleas._

_"Who is?" You asked, pretending not to understand what was happening._

_"The daddy monster," she whispered, leaning close to your ear—careful not to let her words carry._

_She slurred the s and you knew with absolute certainty that she always struggled with the s in words, though you were confused how you had acquired the knowledge. Somewhere your subconscious was trying to tell you something, but it was lost the moment your mouth opened and you replied to the little girl._

_"Oh no, what do we do now?" You whispered back dramatically, and with her in your arms you moved around the kitchen island, slowly bending your knees to hide behind it. The little girl in your arms couldn't keep from giggling as a growling noise and heavy footsteps came closer from the direction of the living room._

_"I smell a little girl and I'm hungry," a deep velvety voice said, growling again. The voice was so familiar, immediately offering a deep-rooted sense of safety—even if your subconscious wasn't letting you put a face to the voice. You knew it, loved it, cherished the owner—that much you did know._

_When silence followed the growled words, the little girl became restless. The footsteps had stopped, and she tried to see past their hiding place, not nearly as careful as she seemed to think—though it mattered not, she couldn't see him. In the meantime, you could hear quiet steps move around the counter and arrive behind you. You chuckled, wondering how long it would take your daughter to figure out she was tricked._

_Quietly, he closed in on you, before quickly grabbing the girl from your grip and tickling her. She shrieked and laughed as he continued his attack on her, her breathless voice calling for her mommy to save her. You pretended to try and grab her, missing repeatedly by mere inches as the daddy monster kept her from your grasp. You smiled happily at the sight before you, it was truly heartwarming how he loved this little girl. She squirmed in her father's arms until he finally stopped tickling her and hugged her close. She sighed deeply, catching her breath and returned the hug, her body still occasionally shaking with giggles._

_Then he leaned closer to you and kissed your lips gently, a short kiss with a clear promise for more. Leaning into him, you felt lighter than you ever had—happy. And as. You melded to his side, you breathed in the subtle remnants of his aftershave, the smell so familiar and comforting to you that you hoped to stand there forever._

_"Hi, doll," he said softly, the smile on his lips equally as bright as yours._

* * *

You woke with a start, sitting up straight and pressing a shaking hand on your chest, feeling your rapidly beating heart. Struggling to get your breath back to normal, you repeatedly went over the events of the dream—it had been so palpable, beautiful, and calm. Like it had been meant to be. Which was exactly why it broke your heart into a million pieces as soon as reality set in again. The tears and pain quickly morphed into an anger that you had not experienced in a long time. An anger over all that could have been and would not ever happen. An anger over all the unanswered questions and the hole it had created in your heart.

Anger, because you had known who the father to that beautiful little girl had been as soon as she had come into view. She may have shared your eye colour, but everything else had been him. The brown hair, the straight nose, and the dimpled chin—it had all been Bucky. And in the midst of the surge of anger and heartbreak, you blamed Bucky—as if he himself had stolen that little girl from you.

A small part of you still realised that it wasn't fair to blame him for the dreams that your mind made up, but rational thought was long gone in those early morning hours. Now if you'd been given time to recover from the pain, it wouldn't have been so bad. You would have been able to rationalise your feelings, get your head on straight again.  
But time wasn't on your side, much like it hadn't been these past few years. Because tonight Maria and Sam were hosting a dinner and the whole group had been summoned. Summoned, instead of invited, for they had pressed the issue, claiming it was vital that everyone came.  
And since you had been neglecting your friends for weeks now, you knew you could not possibly cancel on them now. Even if you knew it wouldn't do you any good to go with this dream still swirling around in your head.

* * *

After you found a parking spot near the apartment building, you took a moment to control your breathing. Anxiety filled your veins, and you knew they'd notice as soon as you stepped in, so you needed to relax. You'd spend much of the day trying to distract yourself, attempting to forget about the dream, though you hadn't been particularly successful at it. It had been as futile as your current breathing exercises. So, with a deep sigh, you resigned yourself to your faith and got out of the car. There wasn't anything else to do now.

"Y/N, wait up!" A voice sounded over the rush hour traffic and you glanced up, as you pressed the button to lock your car.

Placing the keys in a small pocket of your purse, you watched as a brightly smiling Sharon made her way towards you. Answering her smile with one of your own, you waited for her to reach you. Though her relationship with Steve was relatively new, she had already conquered a place within the group—she was rather easy to like. Sharon had proved herself to be funny, kind, and tough. She worked as a nurse in the emergency room of their local hospital, where she ran the floor, an impressive feat at her age. Of course, perhaps the most important thing about her was the fact that she made Steve happier than anyone had done in a long while. He seemed to do the same for her. Whenever you'd seen them together, they'd been all smiles and kisses—it was quite adorable.

Coming to a stop before you, she was quick to wrap her arms around you for a spontaneous hug, the smile still present on her face. You momentarily wondered if she was always this happy, or if her relationship with Steve caused the never wavering smile. You almost cautioned her not to put her happiness on one person, though you thankfully caught yourself. They had every right to be happy and not everyone made the same mistakes you had made. After all, it had been all you to put yourself on the sidelines and focus completely on Bucky. Which had stunted your growth and had suffocated him, you understood that now.

"Where's your other half?" You asked, shaking those thoughts from your mind and trying to let her happiness infect you instead.

"He's just a little late, so I offered to meet him here instead," she explained.

"Don't let Maria hear it. She might throw a fit," you joked, thinking of the multiple messages she'd send out to remind everyone of the time she expected everyone.

Though Maria was always punctual, she had never before been quite this forceful to implement it on others, and it made you believe that there was something she wanted to share with all of you. Which had made it even more important for you to set aside your own muddled feelings.

"It'll only be a few minutes," Sharon chuckled, linking her arm through yours and steering you towards the entrance of the building. "It would've been longer if he'd have picked me up though," she added.

"You should've called; you're on the way for me," you offered, as you began to walk towards the entrance of the building.

"Next time," she agreed.

A few short moments later you were walking into the living room, in a slightly better mood than the one you had arrived with. Sharon was in an energetic mood, spouting jokes in the elevator and quickly pushing off the dark clouds that had been gathering over your head all day.

"Dumped Steve for Y/n, have you?" Clint asked as soon as you came into view. He was seated on the couch, blissfully unaware that Maria stood right behind him. The loud sigh and a playful smack to the back of his head changed that. Sam chuckled as he followed you inside, moving past you to kiss Maria's cheek.

"Couldn't she have us both?" you asked, your face stoic.

"Definitely," Clint replied, wiggling his eyebrows, making you laugh. Pushing Clint aside, you claimed a spot on the couch between him and Natasha, while Sharon sat down in one of the folding chairs that had been placed around the coffee table.

"I feel replaced," Natasha joked and you pulled her into a sideways hug, promising that she would always be your favourite.

"And you mine," she agreed, kissing your cheek, leaving Clint to grumble and pout. You chuckled and he jabbed your legs in revenge—which quickly prompted some jabs back and forth until Maria interrupted the action with a clearing of her throat. She appeared a little nervous and you quickly quieted down.

"Where's Steve?" she inquired, turning to Sharon as soon as you and Clint had ceased your romping.

Sharon glanced up at Maria, taking a beat to observe the stern look she was given, before quickly informing her that he'd be arriving at any moment. Relieved, Maria seemed to relax a little—though her agitation was still palpable and you wondered what was going on with her. Glancing over at Natasha only got you a shrug; she didn't know either. However, across from you, Wanda smiled sweetly; she clearly knew something. Unfortunately, questioning her now was not an option—you'd just have to wait until Steve arrived and Maria would share her information.

Resigning to the fact, you glanced to Wanda's right and stared straight into the beautiful blue eyes of your dream. Bucky sat quietly, almost stoic on a chair in the corner of the room. He had been staring at the floor when you entered, but now he offered you a shy smile. Forcing yourself to return it, you hoped it would be convincing enough. It wouldn't do you any good to add tension to the air.

When Steve knocked not even two minutes later, Maria was fidgeting in her seat. Sam stopped rubbing her shoulders long enough to open the door. Steve was quickly directed to a chair, while Sam got him a drink. Slightly confused, Steve glanced around the room and found that same confusion in everyone's faces. He gave Sharon a quick kiss and sat down beside her.  
Sam returned with a beer at lightning speed and nodded at Maria, who stood to grab something from the dresser behind the couch you were seated on. It was a simple white envelope and gave you no new information, as you followed her every move. You could see her hands shaking slightly and it worried you—nothing ever shook Maria—however, Sam's adoring gaze quickly eased some of the worry. He didn't seem nervous one bit.

"I—WE asked you all here because we've got some news to share," Maria started, the worry easing from her shoulders instantly—you realised she had been eager to share her news, and the waiting must have made her a little anxious. Next to her Sam now sported a big smile.  
Opening the envelope, Maria pulled out the contents—a single picture— and held it up for everyone to see.

_A sonogram._

For a single second everyone stared in silence, the message behind the picture quickly sinking in and causing noise to erupt around you. Everyone stood in unison, happy shouts resounding in the room. Quickly pulling Maria in for a hug, you congratulated her on the happy news, before stepping aside and repeating the gesture with Sam. You were incredibly happy for them, even if it reminded you of your dream. Even if your heart hurt for Natasha. You didn't need to look at your best friend to know that she would be smiling bright, genuinely happy for Maria and Sam as well. Even if it reminded her of her own pain. Sitting back down on the couch, you quickly squeezed Natasha's hand and patted Clint's thigh, careful not to draw any attention towards the gestures.

"So, it wasn't food poisoning then, in the cabin?" Natasha asked with a smirk, once everyone sat down again.

"Certainly the longest bout I've ever had," Maria confessed with a chuckle and you shook your head laughing. Just then the kitchen timer sounded and Maria stood to check on dinner.

"Sit!" you said, standing up instead. "Why don't you let me check on the food."

Maria opened her mouth to protest and Natasha stood next to you, silently cutting her off with a look.

"You've only got a limited amount of months to let everyone run around for you, guilt-free," she offered, gently pushing Maria back into her seat, before sidestepping the couch and moving towards the kitchen.

"What makes you think she'd have guilt from that?" Sam asked teasingly, earning himself a smack on the arm from his beautiful, pregnant girlfriend. You laughed, taking Natasha's hand in yours and pulling her towards the kitchen.

The kitchen in Maria and Sam's apartment was closed off from the living room, offering Natasha a few uninterrupted moments to deal with her emotions. You had expected she'd try to stay strong throughout the evening, but by following you here she had made it clear that a moment was needed. You quickly check on the food, before turning towards Natasha and pulling her into a tight hug, right as the first tears began to fall from her eyes.

"Please don't think I'm not happy for them," Natasha whispered in your ear, trying to explain her tears away. Shushing her, you cut her off. She didn't need to explain, you understood perfectly fine. Being happy for them and hurting over your own situation were not mutually exclusive.

"I know, sweetheart," you said. "Still hurts nonetheless."

Your hands moved in soothing circles over her back as you spoke and Natasha nodded, before burying her face in your hair and allowing you to comfort her for a moment longer. In the silence that followed, all that could be heard was the occasional sniffle and you squeezed her a little closer every time. You wondered how you could possibly make the night easier on your friends. Clint might not show his emotions as often, he would still feel it just like his wife did. Coming up empty, you finally pulled back from the hug and asked her point-blank if she would be able to manage dinner. It took a moment, but she convinced you. She then dabbed her face with cold water, composing herself, while you began carrying the dishes to the dining table.

During dinner, Maria and Sam were bombarded with many questions, and they were eager to answer them. Except for the question of the baby's sex. They had chosen not to find out, stating they didn't care either way. It didn't surprise you one bit.  
Eventually conversations broke off into smaller groups, and seated between Steve and Wanda, you quickly inquired how they had been before apologising for your recent absence from their lives. Both waved off your apology; neither would ever expect more than you could give them, and you were grateful for their friendship. You'd be hard-pressed to find a more understanding group of people than those now seated around this table.

When Clint made a comment that Sam would have to behave now and be a proper example for his kid, everyone laughed. Sam protested that he had never been anything but a prime example for a youngster, to which Maria scoffed loudly.

Turning to Steve, you smiled and asked if he'd been an example as well.

"I'll have you know, I'm a very well-behaved person," he laughed, a slight blush on his cheeks when Sharon chuckled.

"Except when you guys decide to go clubbing without us," you said, giving him a pointed look, and he could only shrug.

"So should we just never allow them out of sights then?" Sharon asked teasingly and she winked at you, when Steve dropped his head in defeat.

"Nope, perhaps we should buy them a bell, so we can follow the sound," you mimicked her teasing tone. Steve chuckled, before protesting that he wasn't a cow. After a few more jabs directed at Steve, both you and Sharon stopped, laughing still, but offering him a reprieve.

"Are we ever going to hear what it was about?" you finally asked him and while he stared intently at the food on his plate, Sharon turned in her seat. You realised he hadn't told her either.

"It was nothing," he mumbled, trying to end the conversation before it had really begun and you stared at him in confusion. When your staring didn't let up, he finally added, "It's not my story to tell."

"How's it not—" you tried to understand him, but failed miserably. He'd been there, been involved, that made it his story as much as the others.

"They were bullies, Y/n. We couldn't let them—," Steve spoke softly, his glance moving over the table fleetingly. His tone had been decisive, and you nodded in acceptance. He really wasn't going to explain any further and you did not want to push the subject. Sharon looked as confused as you felt, and the two of you shared a look before you finally turned back to your food. However, as you took a bite, you realised just who his gaze had flitted towards. Looking up into the same direction, you looked straight at Bucky while he conversed with a laughing Clint. And in that moment, you were happy that subtlety had never been one of Steve's strongest points. You still didn't know what had happened, but it involved Bucky. Finally you took a deep breath and moved over to Steve and kissed his cheek.

"You're a good friend, Steve!" you whispered and he blushed as he looked up at you. You might not have gotten to the bottom of the issue, but it was clear to you now that the guys had stood up for one of their own. For now, you settled for that information.  
Soon after, Wanda asked when you would go for another walk together, and you allowed the information to sink to the back of your mind—stored for another time.

A few hours later, the evening slowly came to a close as Natasha and Clint stood to leave, Natasha explaining that a headache had taken hold. Hugging Maria and Sam, they both offered the couple more felicitations and well wishes, before Clint helped her into her coat. For a moment, you wondered if you should follow them, wishing to hold them close. But you realised that they needed some time together. So you stayed in your seat and waved them off with a smile, vowing to yourself that you'd text her later.  
With the closing of the door, everyone stood from the table and began stacking plates.

"Go, sit," you told Maria with a smile and a peck on her cheek. "We'll clean up."

"I'm pregnant, not incapable," she grumbled, and you chuckled. Maria did not like it when people fussed, but you had every intention of fussing anyway.

"We know, but I doubt you've allowed yourself much rest. Even with the morning sickness." Wanda joined your conversation, gently pushing Maria towards the couch. You chuckled while Sam nearly pushed her onto the couch and then offered her a foot-rub. She grumbled some more, but you paid it no mind—instead, you began moving things from the dining table to the kitchen.

The rest of the group followed suit and the table was cleared quickly. You then waved off the rest, stating that the kitchen was too small for all of them. Wanda ignored you and began putting things in the dishwasher, while Steve, Sharon, and Bucky allowed you to push them out. Whatever didn't fit in the washer, you began to wash by hand. You wanted it all done by the time you left.

A little while later, Steve and Sharon came back in to say goodbye, explaining that Sharon needed to be up early for work. And when you re-entered the living room, Bucky was in the process of putting his coat on. You waved as you passed him, having not shared a single word with him during the night. Sitting down in the seat Sam had vacated when he walked Bucky out, you smiled at Maria. Wanda followed you and sat down on the other side of Maria, both of you gushing about how happy you were.

You were tired, dead on your feet, but you were determined to wait long enough to give Bucky ample time to vacate the building before you left. You didn't want to talk to him, and while you had been able to secretly avoid him for most of the night, it would stand out if you were standing in the elevator together.  
However, after your third yawn in five minutes, Maria told you to go home, urging you to sleep. Chuckling, you kissed her cheek, she was right. And surely Bucky would be gone by now. Slipping into your coat, Sam hugged you and waved you off. By the time you had reached the elevator, he had retreated back into the apartment.

The doors to the elevator were drawing close as you approached, though you paid in no mind—you were lost in thought, and pressed the button absentmindedly. The doors re-opened instantly and you looked up in surprise. Inside stood Bucky with a soft smile on his face. He'd looked good tonight, and as you stepped into the elevator with a forced smile, your heart dropped a little at the sight. For a moment you pondered taking the stairs, but even your stubbornness wavered at the idea of that many steps. With a small smile of acknowledgement, you stood beside him, repeatedly telling yourself that it wouldn't take too long to reach the ground floor.  
The doors closed behind you with a loud ding, and you moved to the opposite wall, leaning against the back of the small box. It stuttered a little before beginning its descent.

"How've you been?" Bucky asked, turning towards you.

"Good, you?" you asked, recognising the fake tone in your voice. You had no illusions that Bucky would fall for the fake happiness. "It's going," he shrugged, shifting on his feet. You knew it was your turn to keep the conversation going, but you couldn't think of anything.

So you remained quiet, very aware of the heat that Bucky radiated as he stood close. You also smelled his aftershave and took a deep breath in, he still wore the scent you had liked so much and your mind flashed back to your dream instantly.  
Pain, anger and disappointment resurfaced immediately and you fought to push it down. And though it might not have been fair to Bucky, you really hoped he'd talk to you—just so you could shout at him. He didn't speak, however. What happened next was much worse.

The elevator jolted, the lights flickered repeatedly and then the box came to a full stop. In-between two floors.

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_**A/n:** My apologies for the long wait for this chapter. There's been a lot going on in my private life and I just struggled to find the right tone for this chapter. I hope it was worth the wait a little bit and that you enjoyed it!_


	21. Chapter 21

**_Flashlight_**

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_Chapter twenty-one_

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The silence stretched for several long minutes, while you glanced around the elevator and masterfully avoided Bucky's gaze. You could feel his eyes on you, but you weren't ready to address him—too many emotions were battling for dominance inside of you. You had to decide which to allow first, and as it was, fear of plummeting to a premature death took priority. The lights flickered a few times before they gave out completely, bathing the small space in total darkness. Thankfully, the complete darkness gave way for a low red emergency light. Though it gave the scene an ominous glow, it was good to see something. And had you been stuck with anyone else, you might've even cracked a joke. As it was, you weren't in the mood to joke around with Bucky.

You turned around and faced the wall, leaning heavily on the bar attached to it. Sighing, you glanced at your hands as they clenched and unclenched around the bar, hoping that focussing would distract you from the fear that had been rapidly spreading inside of you. Behind you, Bucky sighed and moved around the elevator. Curious, you glanced over your shoulder and found him pushing the emergency button repeatedly while grumbling under his breath. Even if you couldn't hear the words, you knew he was irritated by your avoidance. Taking a deep breath in, you knew you couldn't keep it up for long. The tension was thick enough already, and eventually you'd have to break the silence anyway. Who knew how long you'd be stuck here.

"This is just great," you whispered, defeated, and you turned, leaning against the wall and sliding down to sit on the floor. This really wasn't how you had wanted to spend the remainder of your evening. Then again, who would choose this?  
Seconds later, your phone rang, and you hastily reached for your discarded bag, eager to speak to anyone that could help you.

"Are you in the elevator?" Wanda's concerned voice sounded from the other end of the line and you smiled ruefully—of course you were; that was just your luck. Still, you didn't say that.

"Yup, me and Bucky," you said, forcing your voice to sound less defeated than you felt. It resulted in a strained sound, but at least you managed to contain most of the emotion you felt.

If you had allowed yourself to let it shine through, Wanda would've wanted to talk it through immediately, and this was not the time or place for that conversation. Especially since you knew she wouldn't let you dance around anything. And you might have been petty by ignoring him—boy had you been petty—but you weren't ready to confront the reasons why. You were fully aware that you shouldn't be angry with him over a dream. However, eventually, you would have to talk to him about the feelings that the dream evoked. The anger, the pain and the love that were all still swirling around in your head—they needed to be addressed. There were still questions that needed to be answered, but you would need to acquire a more level head before you broached that conversation.

"I've called maintenance, and they are sending someone," Wanda said. Whether she had heard the strain in your voice or not, she didn't respond to it and you were grateful for it.

"How long will that be?" you asked, quickly pressing the speaker button so Bucky could hear it too.

"Well—" Wanda hesitated, and you inwardly groaned—that hesitation didn't bode well.

"Just say it," Bucky said, his voice soft, and you could hear the same strain in it that you felt.

"Since it's the long weekend, it might be a while before they can reach someone," Wanda confessed. "At least an hour or so, maybe longer." You groaned, hitting your head against the wall as you threw it back. This really wasn't something you'd been ready to deal with. For a moment, you wondered if you'd pissed someone off lately, thinking that this might be some strange form of karma. Bucky sighed loudly and sat down on the wall to your left, pulling his legs up and placing his forehead on his knees. He appeared as defeated as you felt.

The following thirty minutes were spent in more tense silence, the heat slowly rising and the air becoming more stifling. Bucky had spent a good chunk of time trying and failing to open the doors just a crack, in an attempt to get some fresh air in. His prosthetic arm made it hard for him to get a good grip, and eventually, he had to give up. He had dropped down on the floor, wiping the sweat from his face with his sleeve. The funny thing was, that his attempts had made you more angry with him than the silence could've. As he had been working, you had been telling him that it was useless. He had simply replied that sitting still felt worse. His voice had been clipped and you knew that you'd been pushing his buttons. Now as he sat down, you got even more annoyed and you knew you would have to figure out why that was.

The silence stretched again while you pondered, eventually coming to the realisation that you might have been pushing his buttons intentionally. All in order to get a response. His passive behaviour was getting to you, and it had been ever since he returned. Before he joined the army, he would call you out on your bullshit and you missed that part of him—the active, no-nonsense person he had been.

Still, even though you knew that you were being irrational, you still huffed as he moved around to cross his legs. Bucky looked up at the sound, confusion clear in his eyes, but he still didn't say a word. A move that didn't help matters one bit.  
The person he had been was confident and a fighter. The Bucky sitting across from you seemed to have lost all that fight. You wondered if he realised this as well. After all, he had previously voiced that he'd wanted his old life back, but how would ever manage to do so if he remained passive?

Your train of thought was rather hypocritical of course, even you could not deny that. You'd been equally as passive over the past few years. But none of that really mattered in your current state of mind. Only your anger and annoyance with his behaviour did. Words of anger burned on the tip of your tongue, eager to spew like fire, but you tried to swallow them down. You didn't want to argue in this small and heated space.

"Have I done something wrong?" Bucky finally asked, scooting towards you, and your head quickly whipped in his direction. You wondered if he was referring to the huff or if he had been catching onto your mood the entire evening. You hoped the first, but feared the latter—you'd never been able to hide much from this man.

Shrugging in lieu of an answer, you returned your stare back to your now wringing hands. Technically, he hadn't done much wrong, not as of late, but he hadn't really done too many things right either. And you had never even worked through the problems you had faced years ago. There was so much still lingering beneath the surface.

"You seem angry," Bucky pressed and took a deep breath.

He wasn't wrong, you just weren't entirely sure what to tell him. A big part of you was still trying to shield him from your emotions like you had done when he first came back. You knew how detrimental this was to your own peace of mind, but it was a tough habit to break.

"I guess I am," you finally confessed, opting for honesty even if you didn't have a clear reason or explanation to give him.

"Is it because of me?" His voice was pleading and it tore at your heart. You really wanted to tell him no, that it wasn't about him. Except it was, and it wasn't doing either of you any good to keep it from him any longer. It was high time to be more open.

"I—I just am," you finally muttered, now angry with yourself for chickening out.

But how were you supposed to explain it to him? 'Yeah, I had a dream about us and we had a family. And now I'm angry that you took that from me, even if it was fictional.' That reasoning probably wouldn't go over well. Besides, even though that might have sparked your anger today, the real issues ran far deeper.

The underlying issues went back to the moment where he had packed up and left, without saying a word. Which was probably the reason that his silence these days pissed you off, at least in part. When he had returned from that last overseas mission, silence had been his fallback if the conversation that needed to be had was hard. He'd ran from the tough subjects and you'd allowed him to do it without consequences. Which meant he'd never faced the demons he needed to face, and neither had you.

"I wish we could talk like we used to," you whispered as a single tear slipped from your eye. Getting emotional hadn't been on your to-do-list for tonight, but the tension was getting too high and you'd been fighting your emotions all day already. You were exhausted. Combine that with being locked in a small space with the one person that sparked your anger—irrationally so—and it was a powder keg waiting to happen.

"Me too," Bucky confessed, turning his head to look straight ahead again.

"So why can't we?" you asked, hating the desperation that shined through in those words.

"I just—it's hard to talk to you." His words hurt, but you also realised that this was the most open he had been in months. So you tried to breathe through the sting and opened yourself up to the conversation as well. Perhaps this was the moment for it, even if you didn't feel ready at all.

"Why's that?" you asked, swallowing the part of the question that asked if that was your fault.

"I screwed up so badly and I hurt you." His voice was gruff as emotions strained it, and you fought the urge to console him, afraid that it would stall the conversation.

"You did hurt me, but I was still ready to forgive you when you returned." Why couldn't he have accepted that? Why couldn't it have been a fresh start? You knew the answer of course, but you had so wished for it.

"I didn't think I deserved it, and I wasn't ready to forgive myself." He shrugged and you shifted around to face him.

"And now you are?" you wondered, finally looking him in the eye.

"I'm working on it." Another shrug. That didn't tell you much of anything. You assumed he still spoke to his therapist, which was a good thing, but you were still left in the dark.

"So I should just wait around?" you asked accusingly, a bitterness to your voice that you hadn't heard before.

"No, I—look, I don't know how to fix what I broke between us," Bucky said, avoiding your eyes as he spoke, but you could see the tears shining in his baby blues.

"I'm not asking you to do it on your own," you urged, "but if you don't talk to me, it's never going to happen,"

"What if you don't like who I am now?" Bucky whispered and you felt more tears fall from your eyes. Had he been procrastinating because he feared the outcome? Could either of you have changed so drastically that you wouldn't like one another anymore? The thought had never even crossed your mind. Instead, you had been waiting for everything to get back to how it had been when things were still good. You wondered which train of thoughts was closer to the truth. Hopefully, neither.

"What if I do?" you asked him, trying to force a smile on your lips in encouragement.

"I'm not who I used to be and I probably never will be again," Bucky said, as if he was trying to convince you to walk away. To give up on him and any semblance of a relationship—platonic or not.

"We've both changed. Steve changed, but you still worked to repair your relationship with him," you tried to reason with him. Why had he been willing to fight for Steve, but not you?

"I'm not sure I can lose you again," Bucky confessed as the tears that had been brimming his eyes finally fell and you took ahold of his flesh hand.

"Bucky, you've burrowed your way into my heart and I don't think I'll ever get you out," You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, before letting the anger rise a little. "But dammit Buck, if we don't figure this out—" you cut yourself off to take another deep breath in hopes to calm your nerves as much as you could, "we'll never be able to go back to what it was, and we might never really recover. But, what if we could have a beautiful friendship? And we keep missing out on that because you don't dare to take a step, and I'm the idiot that lets you be passive forever."

"For any of this to be resolved, we'll need to work on it. We can't keep ignoring the things that still stand between us," you added after another deep sigh. It was hard to contain your emotions, but shouting would not help the situation.

"So, I guess we're doing this," Bucky chuckled awkwardly.

"Guess we are." You tried to offer him a smile, though it probably came off a little weak.

"Tell me what happened, Bucky. How did it all come to be because I still don't really understand, and I want to."

"I'm not sure what to say, how to explain it all," Bucky whispered, again avoiding your gaze.

"I'm sorry, but that's just not good enough," you said and quickly realised this was the first time in a long time that you demanded more for yourself than his usual cop-out answers.  
You understood this wasn't easy on him, and up until this point, you'd let him walk away from an explanation because of it. But this wasn't easy on you either, and you deserved to know what happened from his point of view. You deserved a resolution to the pain and sadness that had held you in its grip for the past few years.

"I know," he pulled back his hand from your grip and moved it through his hair instead, messing up the effects of mousse that had kept it in place.

"I know things weren't easy. I know you were going through a lot. But you just shut me out and didn't even bother to say goodbye before you left," you pressed, holding your hands against your chest to ward off the pain that shot through you when he pulled away from you. There was a clear divide and you wondered if it would ever be bridged.

"I was a coward," he said softly.

"Yes, you were," you said matter of factly, Bucky chuckled, but didn't say much else. Eventually, you decided to ask him one of the most important questions in your mind. "If you could do it over, would you still leave?"

"No, I don't think I would," Bucky said after a few moments. He was pensive about his answer, but you believed him.

"Why not?"

"I thought it would be better for everyone, but it only made everything worse," Bucky confessed. At least he now accepted that it had been the start, rather than the end, of all the problems you were now facing.

"How on earth did you think it would help anyone?" you exclaimed. It was insane to you.

"I thought that you'd move on if I left. You deserved better than me," he said, biting his bottom lip as he reached for the dog tags you knew were hidden beneath his clothes. Turning the chain in his fingers, he kept staring at the small piece of floor visible between the two of you.

"Why?" It still baffled you how his tragic injury took away all his confidence. You could only hope that it would someday return to him because he was not suddenly less.

"I was scared that you were staying out of obligation,"

"Do you not know me at all?" you asked with a rueful chuckle.

Bucky had been your entire world, when he left your life had come crashing down. Suddenly you wondered if you had changed before his accident even happened. When had you let him become the only thing of importance in your life? Not to say that you didn't love your friends and family, but he had been the be-all, end-all. Had you suffocated him with your love? When had you stopped loving yourself? And when had that begun to make him believe that your love for him had turned into an obligation?

"It's stupid, I know," he said and you scoffed—well, that was an understatement.

"And what about Steve? Your parents? What about everyone else you left behind?"

"Honestly, I wasn't really thinking about anyone else." He finally looked up and the pain in his eyes was enough to leave you reeling.

"You're an idiot," you said in an attempt at a joke, hoping to lighten the emotions you were feeling.

"Yep," he replied, clearly attempting to do the same.

And just then, everything changed again. The elevator surged and came to a stop with a loud screeching sound. You nearly jumped into Bucky's lap, but settled for grabbing onto his arm with an unattractive shriek escaping through your mouth. He took your hand in his and you both glanced at the doors, waiting for a sign to explain what had happened.

The answer came when the doors opened and you were greeted by the worried faces of Sam, Maria and Wanda, accompanied by a firefighter and a mechanic. With a relieved sigh, you jumped up, grabbed your purse and coat as you moved and quickly stopped outside of the elevator. You were not risking it locking you in again.

In an instant, you were wrapped up in the waiting arms of Wanda, who whispered soothing words in your ears for only you to hear. She held you close as she wondered if you were okay and didn't let go until you had convinced her that you were. Sam, meanwhile, fussed over Bucky, while Maria spoke to the firefighter and thanked him and the mechanic for coming.  
It wasn't until your rescuers had left that Maria and Sam invited you all back up for drinks. With a tired smile you declined, opting to go home instead. Heading for the stairs, you waved goodbye as you wondered if your tired body would carry you down all those steps. The elevator had only taken you down three floors.

Behind you, the door to the stairwell opened and closed softly and you didn't need to look back to know that Bucky followed you. You were just grateful that he remained quiet until you finally reached the bottom. You weren't sure if you could've spoken and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other without falling down those stairs. "I feel like we weren't done talking," Bucky said as you stepped out into the crisp evening air. You took a deep steadying breath before answering him.

"We aren't," you agreed. "But I need time, and you need to think about your answer to my questions." You offered a small smile in hopes that it would soften your words a little. You knew it would be good to keep going now, but you were exhausted and just wanted to sleep.

"Right." He glanced at his feet and shuffled in place, clearly unsure what else he could say. You were secretly very happy that he was so ready to keep the conversation going; that was a change from his passivity.

"We will have that conversation, promise! Just not tonight. Right now, I just want to sleep," you explained further, and he seemed to consider it, before nodding and accepting it as the truth.

"Okay, sleep tight," he said after you had declined his offer to drive you home. He stepped forward as if to give you a hug but changed his mind mid-way and stepped back again. He waved instead as you got into your car. You offered him one more smile and drove off before he could see the fresh tears that were prickling your eyes.

The drive home had never felt quite as long as it did tonight and by the time you got to your apartment building, the tears were falling freely. Leaning forward on your steering wheel for a moment, you allowed the sadness to take over completely. You weren't entirely sure what was making you cry this much, but instead of fighting it or overthinking, you decided to let it out. Fighting your emotions hadn't been helping you do far, perhaps it was time to stop bottling it all up.

And when you were finally ready to exit your car a few minutes later, your phone rang—the sound breaking through the overall silence and making you jump. You didn't need to check the caller id to know who it would be, and you chuckled despite the tears.

"Hey, love, are you alright?" Wanda asked as soon as you answered, and you smiled at the sound of her voice. You were lucky to have the friends that you had.

"I will be," you promised as you gathered your things and stepped out of the car with the phone still to your ear.

"All your efforts to avoid him, and you get stuck in an elevator," she said and you chuckled again; you really hadn't been hiding it well.

"I wasn't very subtle huh," you said, more as a statement than a question.

"Not at all," she said simply, "but that's okay."

"It was good though, I think. We talked a little," you told her, feeling a sense of calm about it. It had been hard, but good. Necessary for sure.

"So what now?" Wanda wanted to know.

"I've asked him to explain how he came to his decision to leave, and he couldn't answer it. So I asked him to figure that out."

"Good, that's good. You need those answers," she agreed with you, clearly happy that you'd pressed for an answer.

"I don't know why I thought I could move on without them," you confessed and she hummed; clearly she knew something that you didn't, and when you didn't speak any further, she decided to share her knowledge.

"Because you just wanted him back in your life"

"Yeah," you agreed. "Did remind me of a quote though."  
"A quote?" she asked, and you realised how random that must have sounded.

"Yeah, one my mom sent me when he first left," you explained. Your mom had felt horrible to be as far away from you as she was at the time. They had relocated the year before, for your father's work and they couldn't afford to come very often. So she had sent you little notes over text and email. Sometimes a quote, or a poem. Sometimes words of kindness. Wanda had found it incredibly sweet when you had shown her the messages.

"What was it?"

"The hardest goodbyes are the ones that are never said and never explained." The quote made so much more sense now than it had back then. Your anger was linked to that moment where he decided to give you no explanation for his departure. And his inability to give it to you now fuelled it.

"Do you want me to come over?" Wanda asked.

"You are a gem, Wanda! Have I told you that lately?" you asked and she chuckled before you added, "but think I just want to sleep."

"I'll call you in the morning," she promised.

And after thanking her for her kindness and telling her that you loved her dearly, you finally hung up. By then you had reached your apartment, and you swiftly got in, locked the door behind you, and proceeded down the hallway towards the bedroom in one straight line. On the way, you dropped your purse and coat, kicked off your shoes, before you fell face-first on your bed—not even bothering to change as you allowed sleep to take over.

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_**A/n:** I hope you all enjoyed this one. It was a little different for me to write, because of the amount of dialogue. Hopefully I will be able to update more regularly again from now on, the past week or so has certainly been more productive for all my stories. _


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